Break Me Down
by BittyBlueEyes
Summary: Draco feels lost and is struggling to find himself. Hermione is captured and imprisoned by Death Eaters and Draco is called to detain her. Can he, through her, find his purpose in life? Rated M for language and violence.
1. Captured

**Captured**

The cellar door was thrown open and Hermione stared down the dark set of stone stairs. She squeezed her eyes closed, the sight had filled her with fright and dread unlike she'd ever known. The tight grip on her arm forcefully urged her forward. She glared at the hooded man. She always thought that the Death Eaters' masks were silly and childish, reminding her of the Muggles that dressed up for Halloween, but now they seemed anything but silly. To not see the faces of the men that had captured her was intimidating and unnerving. She wanted to see their eyes. Her gaze turned to the wand in his right hand. She longed for her own wand but any would certainly do. She pulled at the rope that bound her wrists. She knew her efforts were futile but she had to keep trying. She looked again at the stairs leading to the Malfoys' cellar, knowing full well that it might be that last place she'd ever see.

The hand on her arm tightened with impatience and shoved her forward. Hermione gasped and stumbled down the first few stairs. She blew out a shaky breath as she managed to regain her balance.

"Hurry up, bitch," the rough voice growled. Hermione yelped with surprise as a blow to her back threw her to the bottom of the staircase. A sharp pain shot through her body as her head connected with the cold stone floor. She peered through half-lidded eyes as the cellar doors closed, throwing her into complete darkness. She whimpered softly as the pain slowly began to subside.

Minutes passed as she lay there, unable to find the will to move. She leaned to the side, finally pushing herself into a sitting position. She regretted it immediately as the throbbing in her head increased in her vertical position. She pushed her back against the wall. Hermione stared through the darkness. Her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she could make out basic shadows although the only shadows she saw were of herself and the stairs. The room was empty, not only of people but of anything. She was surrounded only by cold stone walls. The air around her was cool and dry. Her nose wrinkled a little as the room smelled sourly stale.

Hermione twisted the rope binding her wrists, pulling as much slack as she could between them. The rope squeezed tight around her wrists as the space between them stretched a few inches. With much struggling, Hermione managed to slip her arms under her bottom and down her legs, bringing her hands to the front of her body. Hermione took a deep steadying breath and brought the rope to her mouth, gnawing through the threads like a rat. It took a little more than an hour before her hands broke loose.

It was only after her hands were free that she allowed herself to feel anything and her body wracked with sobs. She closed her eyes and her mind wandered to her friends, wondering where they were at that very moment. They had escaped capture and she was certain they were safe. Perhaps they went to Shell Cottage, or maybe Aunt Muriel's. She wondered if they knew yet that she'd been captured. They were probably waiting for her, thinking she had Apparated somewhere else. They would wait, afraid to miss her if they left. But in truth, they wouldn't know where to look if they wanted to. The snatchers had come upon them so quickly. Harry simply spoke his name, the taboo. Ron tried to stop him, but it was too late. The snatchers were there and their defenses were down. She saw her friends Apparate to safety and was about to do so herself when a well aimed spell pulled her wand from her hand. It didn't take long for them to recognize her; her picture was all over the papers. She envisioned again the sight of her friends disappearing. Never before had she been separated from them like this. They would know soon. They were already worried that she might be captured, of that she was sure. She could see Ron sitting with his head in his hands, tugging at his hair in silent anger and concern, while Harry would be pacing quickly, fuming at the world and himself with agonizing guilt. The Order of the Phoenix would be informed, if that hadn't been already, but it would do no good. The Order had been trying for months to discover the location of the Death Eaters' headquarters. They would never storm the Malfoys' house without evidence that she was there.

True despair washed over her and her tears fell faster. It all felt hopeless. Torture was inevitable and death extremely possible, while chance of rescue looked bleak. Her body shook with heavy sobs and she slowly lowered herself into a laying position. Eventually her cry weakened, her body exhausted by her grief, and she fell asleep.


	2. Her Own Fault

**Her Own Fault**

* * *

Draco stood at the end of the hallway with his hand gently bracing him to the wall. He heard them, the voices; the unmistakable voices of his father, mother and more importantly his Aunt Bellatrix and Death Eaters Nott, Avery, and Wormtail. He wouldn't go downstairs to see them, not unless requested. He never wanted this - any of this. He had talked up his father for years, believing in the power he held, proud that his father had been the Dark Lord's servant. But the Dark Lord returned and Draco had quickly changed his mind. The idea of being a Death Eater was no longer a romantic one.

The Death Eaters had seemed so powerful when he was young, but as soon as the Dark Lord had returned, he learned the truth. They were cowards, all of them. They loved the power that Lord Voldemort gave them, feeling as though some of his greatness belonged to them, but their power vanished in his presence. The man, if you could call him that, was to be feared much more than Draco had anticipated. His father had always spoken of the Dark Lord with reverence and pride, acting as though he had great honor in the position he once held. But now his father was a different man. He groveled and cowered with fear, breaking under the Dark Lord's punishments. His father was not a servant of the Dark Lord; he was a _slave_, a dog that followed his master's orders and suffered for his disobedience or failure. And fail he did. He failed the Dark Lord and in that process he failed his family. It was his father's fault that Draco was made a Death Eater. What other choice did Draco have? Lord Voldemort called upon him for a mission. He had been instructed to kill Dumbledore, though instructed was not the best word for it. Though it was a request, Draco knew the consequence if he did not comply - he and his family would suffer more than the Cruciatus Curse; Voldemort would kill him and his parents.

The assignment had broken Draco. It was not the man he wanted to be. He had the chance; the Headmaster had been disarmed, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. If it had not been for Snape's intervention, Draco would not be alive. The Dark Lord had still been disappointed, and Draco had suffered for it, but his efforts had saved him. He glanced down at his left arm and quickly looked away. The Dark Mark still prickled on his arm like goosebumps, a constant reminder of everything that had happened over the last three years. Voldemort's return was, by far, the worst thing that had happened to him and to the wizarding world.

"Fetch her, Wormtail," Bellatrix ordered.

"Me? Why is it that you think that I-" Wormtail stopped speaking abruptly. Draco slowly leaned forward, peeking around the corner and down into the large foyer. Bellatrix had said nothing to stop Wormtail's speech, but her wand was pointed at the man's head. Her eyes were narrowed as if to dare him to keep talking. Wormtail sneered at the woman and disappeared from sight.

"Has she said anything since her arrival?" Bellatrix addressed Draco's mother, Narcissa.

"No, not a single word since her capture," Lucius answered coolly.

"I didn't ask you," Bellatrix spat. She returned her attention to her sister. "And what did the snatchers say about Potter? Was he there?"

"They saw him Apparate with another boy. By their description, a Weasley, I'd think," Narcissa replied.

Draco's expression didn't change, but it was not neutral. His brow was creased in a permanent scowl. He was stiff, intense, and angry all the time now. He was angry at his father and mother, furious with himself, and loathed the man that they called Lord.

"Ah, and here she is. Enjoying your stay, Mudblood?" Bellatrix taunted. Draco's eyes narrowed as the girl was thrown to the floor. He didn't need to see her face to know who she was. He had spent years of his life taunting this girl himself. Her bushy brown hair fell like a curtain around her face as she picked herself up to a kneeling position. She looked up and stared Bellatrix in the face and Draco could see her clearly. She was dirty and much thinner than she'd been the year before. Her hair was matted and her pale cheeks were streaked where her tears had washed the dirt away. But, despite her appearance and her position at the feet of the Death Eaters, Hermione sat up straight and proud. "I asked you a question, Mudblood!" Bellatrix yelled at her.

Hermione didn't flinch. She stared resolutely into Bellatrix's eyes with no intention to speak. Draco's anger was turning to fury as he stared at the girl. Did she not understand the position she was in? Did she not understand the consequences?

Nott stepped forward and Bellatrix glared at his nerve to step up beside her. "Where's Potter?"

Hermione's head turned slightly to look at the man who spoke. She recognized his voice as the man that had put her in the cellar. Hermione turned her head back to the front and took a deep breath.

Bellatrix sneered at the arrogant girl. "Looks like she needs some incentive to loose her tongue." Bellatrix pointed her wand at Hermione's chest. Hermione never moved. Her mouth never twitched. Her face remained blank.

Draco clenched his teeth. The girl was so stupid it was infuriating. Hermione's eyes traveled up the staircase and stopped on Draco. It was only then that he could see past her mask of indifference. No matter how she tried to hide her fear behind her anger and pride, one look at Draco revealed her terror.

"_Crucio!_" Bellatrix's cry echoed through the foyer and up the stairs. Draco pulled his eyes from the scene, pressing his back against the wall. Hermione's agonized screams ripped through the house, resonating in the walls. The pain contained in it was enough to tear the soul.

Draco's face contorted with fury, his teeth bared. He couldn't take it any longer. He was all too familiar with the effects of that curse. "It's her own fault," he reasoned. The thought didn't help calm him in the least. He might have wished ill on Potter and his faithful sidekicks at one time, but this... He hated Hermione Granger, loathed her very existence, but he wouldn't wish that curse even upon his greatest enemies. Just the thought of enemies made him wonder if his perception of the topic had changed. What was an enemy, really?

Draco balled his fists and stormed down the hallway to his room.

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**Please review.**


	3. A Second Chance

**A Second Chance**

* * *

A knock on the door startled Draco to attention. He leapt from his bed and stared at the door.

"Enter." His voice was solid and unwavering, but in the silence he could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. It was rare that anyone called upon him anymore. It was usually just for meetings called by the Dark Lord. But the Mark on Draco's arm was numb; Voldemort was not there. The door opened slowly and in stepped a man with long black robes, with his greasy black hair that matched its hue. Snape's chin was held high as he looked down his hooked nose at Draco.

"Good Morning, Draco," Snape greeted in his usual drawling monotone.

"Good Morning, Severus," Draco returned in the same manner. Though Draco was an adult and member of the Death Eaters, Snape still sneered at the young man who dared to call him by his first name. "What brings you here today?"

"You," he answered shortly. Draco was irritated by Snape's pause as he knew it was just to cause him unease. He wondered if his old Potions master could hear his heartbeat as he could himself. "I've spoken to the Dark Lord, Draco. We've spoken once more of the task he had given you."

Draco's heart raced on, his panic increasing but not to the notice of his guest. "And what does my Lord have to say?"

"It is what _I_said, Draco. I, again, assured him that your failure was due to my impatience; that the only reason you did not finish off the Headmaster was because of my own desire to finish him." Draco stared at the man before him. Snape was once quite intimidating, with his dark eyes and the way he towered over Draco, but now that they stood the same height, Draco could see that the eyes he once thought full of malice and power were as frightened and bitter as the rest of them. No one could hide those feelings. They all tried, every one of them hiding their fear behind glares.

"And?" Draco prompted.

"And the Dark Lord sees fit to set another task for you."

Draco's eyes fell to the floor. Snape was acting like this was a good thing but another task was one of the last things Draco wanted. He had been glad that, for the last few months, Voldemort had not called upon him or his parents for anything except the use of their house. Draco was content to stay in his room as much as he could, as far from the war as he could get.

"Do not look so grieved. This is a second chance. It is better, _safer_, for you to be involved than to stay idle. Those that are idle are dispensable. And the task is not difficult; the Dark Lord does not trust you that much."

"I am not idle or grieved. I live to serve that Dark Lord. I am proud to be chosen," Draco declared defiantly.

"Good," Snape replied curtly. His eyes again spoke more than his words. He looked at Draco with approval for his choice of words but also with pity. "Then follow me."

"Now?" Draco said with surprise.

"Yes." Snape turned quickly and swept from the room, not looking back to see if Draco was following. Draco, still stunned, had to shake himself from his thoughts and jog to catch up with his old Professor.

"So why aren't you at Hogwarts?" Draco asked suddenly. Though Snape's words about staying idle were true, he still felt angry that Snape had suggested him for a task.

"The Headmaster is not tied to the school, Draco. I had to meet with the Dark Lord. I am returning as soon as I brief you on your assignment."

"But why me?" Draco asked. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that he was pressing his luck but he couldn't help it. "If I fail..."

"Don't fail," Snape snapped, stopping abruptly on the staircase and turning to the boy following him. "This task is easy. Don't fail. And you know why it's you. I have already explained it. It is good for you. Not to mention, there is no one else to spare. Don't fail."

Draco gulped and followed again as the man proceeded down the stairs in front of him at a leisurely pace. Snape crossed the foyer and entered the grand and elegant drawing room. Draco looked around, expecting to see something or someone waiting for them, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary, at least at first glance. His eyes fell upon a tapestry that was pulled to the side and draped over the arm of a chair, revealing the door to a chamber that was hidden below his feet. Years ago, it had been where his father had hidden dark objects that he did not want to be found during ministry raids. But until just a few days prior, it held Mr. Ollivander and Luna Lovegood. They had both been moved to a location unknown to him. He suspected they were alive, but the uncertainty chilled him. He stared at the door with dread, his intense eyes, as ever, masking his anxiety. He had no doubt at all that Hermione Granger was down there. Whatever his task, it had to do with her.

_"Snape said it was easy,"_ Draco reminded himself. _"It won't be to kill her. He knows that would not be easy for me. He and he alone knows that I did not have it in me to kill my Headmaster. He would know that, despite the rivalry between Granger and me, I could never take her life."_

"Do you know who's behind that door?" Snape asked with a scrutinizing stare.

"Yes," Draco responded, turning his head.

"She is your task. You will stand guard outside this door, even sleep outside this door, unless someone comes to relieve you. You are to check on her frequently to make sure she has not escaped or is planning an escape. And be on guard, always aware of your wand," Snape's voice was as intense as his eyes. His command was so direct and so hard that Draco imagined him as a testy father speaking sternly to his son.

"Just...Just guard her?" Draco asked tentatively.

"Yes. She has refused to utter even a single word and will continue to be interrogated until she reveals what the Dark Lord requests," Snape informed. He glared at the deep crease that appeared upon Draco's brow and continued. "Pull yourself together, Draco," Snape said in a slightly softer tone. "You will not be the interrogator. You must simply see to her detainment. Now I must go." With a final nod, Snape left the room.

Draco looked around the empty room. He had known for months that he was a prisoner in his own home, but his world had just gotten smaller. He stared at the floorboards under his feet. Hermione Granger, the pompous know-it-all whom he teased in school was just beneath him, the haughty girl who always stood by the person he hated most. Or the person he had once hated most... Now there was no one in the world that he hated more than Voldemort.

Slowly, he walked to the door. The sound of his shoes on the wooden floorboards echoed through the empty room. Draco removed his wand from his robes and reluctantly unlocked and opened the door. Because of Snape's order of caution, he half expected Granger to be hiding and waiting to ambush the next person through the door. He shut and locked the door behind him and apprehensively started down the stairs. Far greater than his fear of attack was the fear of what he would find there. The screams issuing from the foyer the night before had chilled him and the actions that caused them were left to his imagination. With the simple command of Lumos, the tip of his wand glowed, illuminating the dark chamber and the figure curled on the floor in the corner. Hermione raised her head from the floor and pushed her body further into the corner, squinting against the light. He scowled at the girl. Her hair was even more matted than the night before. One side of her face was scratched as though pulled over sharp gravel. It wasn't like that last night. What did they do?

Gradually, Hermione's eyes adjusted to the light. She stared at a pair of black leather shoes and her eyes followed up a set of simple charcoal robes and landed on a pale pointed face. His eyes were narrowed, his nose scrunched in a look of disgust. His white-blond hair was, as always, combed smartly to the side. He looked as classy and arrogant as ever, yet there was something about him that just didn't fit. Hermione knew, despite his appearance, that Draco Malfoy was not what he seemed.

"D-Draco..." Hermione squeaked timidly.

His nostrils flared and he clenched his teeth. Draco turned without a word and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Fading

**Fading**

* * *

He never spoke to her, not even once.

Hermione had called his name only once and Draco had turned away from her. Since then not a word had left Hermione's lips.

Days passed, though she wasn't certain how many. Hours ticked by without even a drop of sunlight. She never knew what time of day it was. Her only guesses were made by her meals, if you could call them that. She had come to assume that she was receiving them once a day, which meant that she'd been there just over a week. But to be honest, she was never really sure that that was how frequently she ate. She was in a constant state of hunger. The food, barely edible, was hardly enough. The bread was stale and often tasted as though it was just starting to mold, the strip of meat was dry and chewy and she couldn't even wager what kind of animal it had come from, and the water was lukewarm with a bitter tinny taste to it. She quickly forgot the water's faults and it became what she looked forward to the most. She learned to portion her food, trying to spread her meager rations through the day.  
But time was a cruel joke.

There were no days, no hours, no minutes - just unending time. She sat in her corner, staring to nowhere, thinking of nothing. She wouldn't allow herself to think; it was just too painful. She knew that her friends would be looking for her, but for all they knew, she could be dead. At times she almost welcomed the idea.

Two more times since the night she arrived they had come. A group of people, always changing, entered the chamber to question her. She never spoke a word, but her screams left her feeling so hoarse that she doubted she even had the ability to speak. But she refused to think of it. She refused to think at all. Thinking brought hope, and thinking stole it away.

The door opened and a stream of light fell onto the floor next to her. She squinted her eyes, staring into the light, hoping to see a familiar set of black leather shoes. The door opened rather frequently, every couple hours at least. Each time, Hermione panicked until she could see who it was. Nearly every time it was Draco; she knew him by his shoes. His black leather shoes were a sign of safety. Most of the time he just peeked down to see her and quickly retreated. Her meals also came from him. She couldn't understand why, but it was a comfort to see him, even if it was just a glimpse. He was proof that someone besides herself existed. She knew he was her guard; someone to make sure she could not escape, but at times it felt just the opposite. The sight of him meant that she was safe, at least for that time. He never hurt her. When she caught herself thinking such thoughts, a piece of her always protested. He was not _kind_. Draco was one of them. But with all the barbaric cruelty of the others, Draco's lack of hostility almost felt like he cared.

Hermione gasped as her eyes fell upon a pair of high-heeled black leather boots. The hem of a black dress swayed as a woman sauntered down the stairs. Hermione closed her eyes tightly. She didn't need to see any more to know who was coming, and the woman's intentions were just as obvious. If anyone but Draco entered, it meant interrogation – the only time she allowed herself to think of her friends. It was only the thoughts of them that stayed her tongue.

"Good evening," Bellatrix greeted in a mocking tone. Hermione stared at the wand being stroked in the woman's hands. Her bones felt as though they caught fire just remembering their last meeting. "Feel up to a little chat today?"

* * *

Draco stared into the mirror and towel dried his hair. He looked paler than ever, sickly and weak. The task was a simple one, just as Snape had said, simple in the physical sense. But his mind, his mind was trapped with the girl he guarded. Each time he looked at her, he felt ready to snap. Emotion, one that he could never describe, rose in his chest and burned through his veins. Each time he heard her pitiful cries and whimpers through the door, he forced his thoughts away.

His shower had lasted all but five minutes. He couldn't enjoy it. The screams echoed through the bathroom floor and reverberated through the tile walls. He dressed quickly and stormed down the stairs, ignoring the increasing volume of the screams as he neared the study. He glared at the door as he strode past. It was odd that they had taken her from the chamber. His heart pounded and he refused the nagging itch of his imagination. He didn't want to imagine what was happening. He didn't want to know any of it. He wanted no part. Draco thrust the kitchen door open with such force that it hit the wall. There was a sound of breaking china as two house-elves stared up from the sink, startled by the sudden entrance, and panicked as they glanced at the broken cup. Draco's eyes narrowed at the creatures. They expected punishment for the broken teacup. He imagined the sound of the house-elves yelping in pain when another scream reached him from across the house. Draco waved his wand at the cup, the simple swish repairing it.

"I'm hungry," he snapped. He need not say more. The house-elves scurried quickly to meet the expectations of their young master.

He ate quickly. He was starving, but even more he wanted out of the house for a few minutes. He almost never left the drawing room and the stress of his task was straining his sanity.

The screams died away quickly.

_Too quickly,_Draco thought. His breath caught. His imagination broke through his shield, revealing an image of Hermione's broken body sprawled face up on the floor, her eyes blank and unseeing, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. His stomach churned at the thought.

"Draco!" Bellatrix's shill voice called through the house. Draco got to his feet and walked to the door. The house-elves looked on pitifully while removing his plate from the table. Draco was very aware of his rapid heartbeat and how each of his steps fell on the fourth beat. He swallowed hard as he turned the handle to the study door. Apprehensively, he entered, his eyes first falling upon his aunt's wicked grin. Her gaze turned from him and he followed her eyes to the body on the floor. Almost as he imagined, Hermione's body was flat and still. Her eyes were closed and her face was pale. Draco saw her body rise with an intake of breath and only then did he allow himself to breathe also.

"It seems you auntie has lost her patience," Avery chuckled in the corner. His arms were crossed in front of his chest at he leaned casually against the tall bookcases lining the walls. "She didn't let up and the Mudblood lost consciousness."

"Of course I've lost patience. Four sessions now! Four! She's as stubborn as the Longbottoms," Bellatrix spat.

"You better find another way of dealing with her then," suggested Nott, crossing his own arms. "If she loses her mind like the Longbottoms, we'll never get a thing from her."

"I've already been working on it, you fool," she snapped. She whirled around and stared at her nephew. "Draco, we're done with her for tonight… obviously. Take her back to the cellar."

Draco nodded and walked to the center of the room, all eyes on him. He knelt down, his forehead creased with concern, and scooped the girl into his arms.

Avery chuckled again. "Don't carry the thing, you'll get your clothes dirty. Use a levitation spell."

"Never really good at those," Draco mumbled. "This is fine."

Bellatrix's eyes followed him from the room. The look on her nephew's face concerned her.

Hermione was cradled in his arms, head tipped back over the crook of his elbow, her legs dangling over the other. She felt so light to him. Draco knew he was strong; he had no doubt that he could easily lift her, but she was just so thin now... She felt so fragile and breakable. He stared at her face as her eyes fluttered open. The woman she was just last year was so strong and proud. No matter what was said or done to her, she lifted her chin to rise above it all. This was not the same woman. Her dark brown eyes were distant, pleading to him, to _anyone_, for help. The woman she had become through years of toil had regressed into this frail, broken little girl. She let out a small whimper and her body twitched with the lingering pain of the Cruciatus Curse. Draco turned his eyes from her and walked through the open door and down the stone stairs to the cellar. He set her carefully on the floor and pulled his hand back quickly. It was wet. He lit his wand saw that his hand was smeared with her blood. He hastily dropped to his knees beside her and turned her onto her side. He lifted her cotton shirt and stared at her back. Two large cuts slashed an "X" from her shoulders to her hips. He snapped her shirt back in place and stared at her again, his eyes narrowed with fury.

"What are you doing here?" he yelled at her.

Hermione's eyes fell upon his and tears began slowly and silently rolling down her cheeks.

"I mean it! What the hell were you thinking? You knew they were after Potter. You knew they were after _you!_ You should have _run!_You should have fled the country. It's not your fucking job to play hero. This is what happens for playing hero. It doesn't matter which side of this war you're on; if you're in it, you lose," Draco raged on. He was so angry with her. This was her fault. If she had stayed away from Potter, this never would have happened. "Look at you! You've lost. We've all lost. This war's only winner is the Dark Lord. The only thing people can do now is follow orders, hide, or die. Why on earth did you take the last option?"

Hermione whimpered again, her tears falling faster. "Draco…"

Draco's jaw clenched as she spoke his name. It was weak, but it stung more than anything that evening. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He waved his wand at the dark corner in the back of the room. Hermione lifted her head a couple inches off the floor and squinted to see what he had done. She gasped as he lifted her once more and carried her to the corner. She jumped when she felt herself sinking into something soft. She turned her head and saw that he had lowered her onto a padded cot with a pillow. She looked up at him in confusion. His eyes looked angrier and fiercer than when he'd yelled at her a moment ago.

"Don't get comfortable," he growled. "It'll be gone before you wake."

Hermione watched him as he stormed up the stairs and flinched when the door slammed shut. She turned onto her side and hugged the pillow under her head. Her tears were drying up, but her body still shook as she wept and whimpered in the dark.

_Draco…_The name repeated in her head as a merciful sleep washed over her aching exhausted body.

Draco sat uncomfortably in the armchair next to the door. His foot shook with anxiety. What had he done? It was not his place to interfere. His job was simple: detain her. No one said he had to let her suffer, but he knew his act of mercy would be considered an act of treason. His anger heightened to insane fury. He couldn't sit. His adrenalin was increasing with his stress, making it impossible to remain still. It was just too much for him, all of it. _Her. Them. What do they want from me?_ He was pacing furiously, only barely aware of his movements, back and forth in front of the door. _It's all her fault!_His mind exploded at the thought. He picked up the closest thing to him, a vase, and threw it at the wall opposite him. It shattered into several pieces. Shattered – just like himself... just like her.

"Draco?" Bellatrix's voice questioned from down the hall. Draco whipped out his wand, repaired the vase, and summoned it to him. He looked up in shock and fear as his aunt entered the room. "Everything alright, Draco?"

"Yeah," he replied, his voice even. "I just knocked into the table." Draco placed the vase back on the spindle legged table and looked straight into Bellatrix's dark eyes. There was a barrier in his eyes, one that hid his emotions well. If there was one thing he was truly skilled at, it was lying.

"No problems with the girl then?" Bellatrix pressed, looking to the chamber door.

Draco snorted with cold amusement, his trademark smirk charming his aunt. "Is your faith in me that small? She was unconscious. The only trouble I might have had would have been dropping her down the stairs." His heart pounded fiercely behind his heartless façade. If she felt the need to check on the captive, Draco would surely be severely punished.

However Bellatrix's suspicions died and she joined the joke with a few dark chuckles. "Did you?"

"I might have if I had thought about it earlier. The Mudblood bled on my shirt," he said, gesturing to his sleeve.

"Remedied easily enough." His aunt cast a quick cleaning spell on his outfit and Draco nodded in appreciation. "Maybe that will encourage you to practice your levitation spells."

Bellatrix left the room with an amused smile on her face and Draco immediately dropped into the chair again. He rubbed his face with both his hands and wove his fingers into his hair. His mind kept flashing images, too fast for him to concentrate: the dangerous sneers of the Death Eaters... his parents and Voldemort... and Hermione's face... the proud haughty smiles and smirks that she once wore at school... the way she laughed with her friends, then... her pleading eyes locked on his... panic, terror, pain, weakness, hopelessness... The sound of her screams echoed in his memory and a stabbing pain twisted in his heart. He couldn't win.

* * *

**A/N: Okay. I never write "Songfics", but for every fanfic I write I choose a few songs that I feel represent a character or idea (just for myself) to keep me focused and excited about that character or idea. I've never shared that with my readers before but the song I picked for Draco seems too perfect to keep to myself. To me, it feels like "Draco's Theme Song" It's Fading by Decyfer Down. If you've never heard it before, I highly recommend that you google it. I think the song really represents Draco's feelings in this chapter. **


	5. Temptation

**Temptation**

* * *

The light shone through Hermione's closed lids. Her body was stiff and her many cuts burned and stung with pain. She pushed herself into a sitting position. She was on the floor once more, just as Draco had said she would be. She squinted up at the stream of light that came through the open door and tears instantly gathered in her eyes. She wiped them aside, praying again to see the black leather shoes that belonged to the only compassionate person that she'd seen in days. Her tears let loose with relief when they came into view. She could see no higher than his black trousers and the hem of his charcoal robes, but she knew it was him. She saw something floating down the stairs and startled when the metal tray clanged on the stone floor next to her. The door closed quickly, encasing her in darkness again.

Hermione crawled forward on her knees and felt around for her tray. Her hand knocked into the cup, almost upsetting it and she steadied it quickly. Of all the things she received, the water was favored most. Hermione stared down at the tray in confusion. Though she could not see it, she knew it wasn't right. The cup was all wrong. She placed both hands around it. It was a tea cup and it was warm to the touch. She picked it up and held it beneath her nose. It was... _tea_. She set the cup back down and smelled the air. She gave a nervous chuckle and felt around her plate. The food was warm and she could smell it.

Her hand came upon what was unmistakably a chicken leg and next a baked apple. She pulled back quickly when her fingers touched a sticky substance. Apprehensively she brought her finger to her mouth and tasted it. It was clotted cream and jam... perhaps a scone? She chuckled again, but it came out more like a whimper. It was too good to be true. She dismissed the idea that she was dreaming. The taste was too real to be her imagination. The next conclusion to be considered was poison. She swallowed hard and stared up at the door, the tiniest crack of light shining underneath. Draco had delivered it. Her stomach clenched angrily at the smell of the food. She thought of the bed he had conjured for her the night before. He had shown mercy.

_Is this perhaps another kind gesture? But what if it_ is _poisoned? Draco may have never caused me pain, but that doesn't mean that he's a friend or that he's not dangerous._But no matter how many times she told herself that Draco was "one of them" she couldn't help but convince herself that he cared.

_Poison… Would it really be that bad?_ It could be the answer to her plea. She wanted freedom. The greatest freedom could be found only in death. Hermione took a deep breath and picked up the piece of chicken only to drop it back on the tray. _How can I think such a thing? Harry, Ron, the Weasleys, all of my friends... I can't... But I don't know for certain that it's been poisoned... but I can't chance something like that! I'm just not thinking clearly._ She stared down at the tray, fighting back tears. _But Draco...? Draco._

Hermione slowly picked herself up off the floor and walked unsteadily up the stone stairs.

"Draco..." She tried to speak but her throat was so dry that it sounded croaky and hardly understandable. She cleared her throat and tried again, speaking clearly but still very quiet. "Draco...?"

Draco was standing directly in front of the door, glaring down at the place he imagined her body to be, his fists clenched at his sides. _I'll just ignore her..._

"Draco?" Her plea became a little louder. "Draco?" She sounded close to tears and it was making Draco even angrier. _How dare she try to speak to me?_

"Draco. Is-?"

"Shut up, you stupid Mudblood," Draco commanded, his fists now shaking at his sides. "I'm trying to get some fucking sleep."

Hermione sat on the top stair feeling more confused each second. She couldn't make sense of him at all. He sounded as furious and disgusted with her as he always had. But even after all his shouting the previous night, he still conjured her a bed. _No... I can't trust his actions by what he says..._

"Draco?"

"I said shut up!" His bellowed reply was accompanied by a fierce kick to the door. Hermione flinched and retreated back two stairs. Tears welled in her eyes. She had been mistaken about him...

A minute passed as she tried to control her urge to cry. With a deep shaky breath, she slowly descended the stairs and sat in front of the tray. She was back to where she started: starving and tempted. She took another deep breath, this one full of bitterness and determination. She picked up the tray and returned to the top of the stairs and started to slowly place the tray on the top step, not knowing exactly where it was in the dark. She looked at the flickering light under the door. With a sudden surge of anger she dropped the tray the last couple inches, allowing the metal to clang noisily on the stone step, accompanied by the gentle tink of china as the tea cup wobbled on its saucer. With one last angry glare at the door, Hermione retreated back into the chamber, sinking down against the wall opposite the stairs and allowed herself to shed only two of her nagging tears - one for anger and the other for self-pity. She'd allow no more than that.

Draco didn't miss the sound of the tray. He was still standing in front of the door, angrier than ever. She was not making this easy. He unlocked the door and threw it open, earning a gasp from the girl at the bottom of the stairs. The light behind him flooded over his shoulder, illuminating the girl with its soft glow. Draco's eyes dropped to the tray it his feet, the food and tea completely untouched.

"Is this what all your whining is about?" Draco demanded with a sneer. He chuckled, an insufferable smirk on his face.

"What is this? A protest or something? We finally give you something halfway decent and you're going to decline it?" He added in a smaller voice, "Bleedin' Mudbloods... I'll never understand 'em."

Hermione had no trouble hearing each word. Her eyes narrowed. As if the suspicious tempting tray of food wasn't difficult enough for her, now she had the boy that she had convinced herself was caring, standing there throwing mocking taunts and insults in her face.

"What?" He jeered, seeing her anger and irritation. "Did you actually think you might get something out of your little protest? A nice comfy bed perhaps? Get over yourself. They don't care if you starve to death. They plan to get information out of you long before you starve. Might not be a bad thing to try though, incase that's what they decide to do with you in the end, at least you'll have a head start."

She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest, but her tears betrayed her threatening look. "Maybe I will then," she squeaked in challenge.

_Fuck, Granger! What do I have to do to prove to you that it's not poisoned?_ "Works out for me then," Draco said with a sly smile. He leaned over and picked up the chicken leg. "Since I'm stuck here guardin' you, I haven't had the chance for second helpings. Cheers." He lifted the chicken leg to his lips and took a large bite. Hermione was seething as she watched him eat it. He licked his lips, smacking them dramatically as he finished and gave her one last snort of amusement as he flicked the bone down the stairs. He glanced at the tray and back up at her angry tear-stained face. "Good luck with your protest." He closed and locked the door and stared at it hopefully, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip._Just eat it, you stubborn little..._ He stopped short and almost chuckled aloud as he heard the tray slide off the top stair. _'bout damn time..._

Hermione walked down the stairs with the tray in hand. _It's not poisoned..._ She took a deep breath. _Why did I ever think it would be? It's like he said; they're trying to get information out of me. They wouldn't give up yet. And if they're going to kill me, it wouldn't be a secret. This... This is just... I don't know what this gesture is supposed to mean, but it's just food. And now I've lost my piece of chicken to that bloody prick. But I wouldn't be eating it at all if he hadn't... did he know that? No. Get over it Hermione. He doesn't care. None of them do._

At that, she made herself shove her thoughts to the side. She was starving, literally. She ate the baked apple and the scone, saving her tea to wash it down with. But just as she was thinking about the tea, she thought again of the chicken. She knew how pathetic it was, but she was still hungry. Feeling humiliated, she combed the floor until she found the bone he had thrown at her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as picked clean the meat that he hadn't wasted time with, bitter at how excited it had made her to find there was still something on it. She dropped the cleaned bone onto the tray with a clunk and picked up her tea. She breathed in the scent and wiped her tears away. She was determined to enjoy this as much as she could. She pushed her thoughts of Draco and the other Death Eaters from her mind and enjoyed her cup of tea, imagining that she was doing so at home with her parents in front of the fireplace, enjoying a good book.

She placed her empty cup on the tray next to her and sighed with contentment. She never allowed herself to think of her family or friends, but this time it was a rather nice daydream. She tipped her head back against the wall with a small smile on her face. It was hard not to feel content just then. With her belly fuller than it had been in weeks, a nice hot cup of tea, and that warm drowsy feeling that comes with it. There was no room for any concerns just then. But after only a minute a tiny nagging thought began to agitate her genial serenity. This warm pleasant drowsiness wasn't natural. She could feel her pulse gradually waning, pounding in her ears as it slowed. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they were becoming heavier each second. Her breaths were steadily weakening.

_I'm dying… He did poison me. But I guess it's not such a bad way to go…_She thought with offhanded amusement. She was bathed in light once more. Her eyes opened just enough to see his black shoes at the top of the stairs before her head fell to the side.

* * *

A strange sensation flowed through Hermione's body as she gradually returned to consciousness. She felt different, almost numb. _Is this death?_ Concentrating on herself she began to feel the world around her. The floor was hard, the air cool. She wiggled her toes. She was alive and surely that meant she was still in the dark chamber. She turned her head to the side, trying to stretch the stiff muscles in her neck. Minutes passed as she began to wake, pulling her mind back into the real world. She sat up slowly and rubbed her face. Her hands froze. She was different. She ran her fingers over her left cheek. The wounds were gone. She lifted the back of her shirt, feeling naught but faint scars from the 'X' Bellatrix had sliced on her back. She was healed. But besides from her achy muscles, she felt okay. Her fingers ran over every inch of her body, feeling for the many cuts she had gained in her imprisonment. Her fingers ran through her hair and stopped immediately. It was cut. It had grown long during her time on the run with Harry and Ron and had been a dirty, knotted, tangled mess reaching the middle of her back. But now it was as she usually kept it, two inches below her shoulders. _They healed me and cut my hair? This just doesn't make sense..._She stared up at the door. _Draco…?_

The day passed slowly, not a single sign from any of her captors. Her eyes kept looking up to the door in wait. She knew it would have to open sometime. She only hoped that when it did, it would be Draco again. The hours ticked on and Hermione fell asleep staring at the door.

She jumped to attention when the light flooded the room. Her heart beat quickly as the footsteps slowly came halfway down the staircase. The outline was unmistakable.

"Draco…" Hermione's voice cracked as she spoke. The lack of use made it hoarse and foreign-sounding. Draco tipped his head away from her. A tray floated from his hands and landed next to her right leg. The tip of his wand lit and he looked down at her pale haunted face. She saw his grey slate eyes. They weren't intense as they always were. They were still distant but softer.

"Draco… did you-?"

Draco cut her off quickly. His voice was commanding. "Eat. Sleep."

Hermione looked down at her tray to see scrambled eggs and toast, sausage, a couple slices of orange and a cup of tea. She looked up at him again, her eyes shining with appreciation and renewed hope. Draco's eyes narrowed at her response.

"Don't save any. Finish it now," he ordered, his eyes hardening again. "I'll be back for it in 15 minutes." He turned from her and stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. Hermione pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes, willing back her tears of elation. This was not the time to get emotional. Her hands shook as she fumbled for her tray. She had to eat quickly if she wanted to finish it. Only minutes after eating, she fell again into a deep sleep, this time welcoming it without fear.

The tray was gone when she woke again.

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**Please review! I love to know what you think. Please Review.**


	6. Found Out

**Found Out**

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"He finished it this morning," Bellatrix's voice stunned Draco into a standing position.

"But will it work?" Lucius asked. "It's of no use if the man has given you-"

"He wouldn't dare cross me! He knows who I am," Bellatrix snapped, rounding on her brother-in-law.

"Let's hope you're right," said Lucius, lifting his eyebrows in an arrogant challenge. Bellatrix's eyes narrowed but she did not respond as she turned to the door. Draco's heart pounded in his chest and the blood drained from his face. The Death Eaters never visited during the day, only in the evenings. This visit took him by surprise. He had just taken Hermione a tray of ham, potatoes, bread with jam, and tea. Surely she hadn't finished it yet. And if they brought her to the light, they would see her wounds healed. He was sure they'd visit again soon, but he anticipated an evening visit when the evidence would be hidden in the dark.

"Good morning, Draco," Bellatrix greeted amiably. Her smile, whenever she decided to display it, was uncomfortable. One could easily see that she was once a stunning beauty. Her smile was still alight with an almost childlike charm, but it was twisted in the most disturbing way; her teeth were rotten and her eyes were wide with insanity from her long stay in Azkaban. Her smile was nearly as terrifying as her scowl and Draco was nearly shaking where he stood. He merely nodded in response. Bellatrix and Lucius walked down into the cellar, followed closely by Avery. Draco stood at the top of the stairs and closed his eyes. _The little Mudblood better hide the evidence,_he thought.

"Get up!" Avery growled. Hermione yelped in pain. "Open up!" Draco peeked around the doorframe at the three figures gathered around the smaller. Hermione was on her feet and Avery's hand gripped her throat, pushing her against the wall with her chin high in the air.

"'Open' I said!" Hermione pressed her lips tightly together. Avery's hand moved up her neck, his thumb and middle finger squeezing the joints of her jaw. She whimpered in pain while her mouth was forced open a crack. Bellatrix uncorked a tiny bottle and emptied half of the contents into her mouth.

_Veritaserum,_ Draco panicked. _Why hadn't I thought of it before? This is the end of it. The end of everything._Hermione would have no choice but to expose the Order of the Phoenix. The war would end and Hermione would be disposed of this very day; she was no use to them once she spoke. And if she spoke of Draco's actions...

"Where is Potter?" Bellatrix asked with a malicious glint in her eye. Draco gripped the doorframe, willing the girl not to speak.

"I don't know…" Hermione's voice was soft and distant. As soon as she finished her sentence, her eyes rolled back in her head and her body became limp. Avery released her, letting her slide into a heap on the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Avery snapped. "I know it wasn't my grip."

"The potioneer would never cross you?" Lucius lifted his eyebrows again to Bellatrix. He looked cocky and smug and Bellatrix sneered viciously in return. She looked about ready to retort but Lucius spoke first. "She is alive still, isn't she?"

Avery dove to the body, pressing his fingers against Hermione's neck. "Yes. She's alive, just passed out."

"Was it the potion?" Bellatrix asked, staring at the bottle in her hand.

"Let's test it," suggested Avery. Each of them looked from one face to another, no one daring to volunteer and their glares daring one another to speak their name. Avery stepped back from them and stumbled, the sound of the metal tray clanging on the floor, and the sound of breaking china reached Draco's ears. "What the bloody hell is this? This isn't a bloody restaurant."

"Let me see," Bellatrix ordered. She glared at the tray. Draco pulled back just before she saw him.

"It's that nephew of yours," concluded Avery.

"That's my son you're accusing!" Lucius snapped.

"Well that's not all, look at her," Avery insisted.

Draco chanced another glance and saw Avery on the floor examining Hermione closely. _Fuck!_

"It's obvious someone's being a little friendly. Look at her hair, the cuts on her face. This isn't a fucking spa and she's not treating herself to this," Avery glared up at Lucius like it was his fault.

"Draco," Bellatrix called up the stairs. Draco swallowed hard and did not move.

"I think we found the perfect test subject," Avery snorted.

"You will not use that on my son!" Lucius commanded.

"I think he's right, Lucius. If Draco has done nothing wrong, then there'd be nothing for him to hide." Bellatrix turned to the door and called for him again.

Draco's fingers fumbled for a small bottle in his pocket. It was the sleeping potion that he'd been adding to Hermione's tea. He quickly downed the potion and Vanished the empty bottle. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the doorway. His face was a perfect mask of stoicism.

Avery snatched the bottle from Bellatrix's hand and shoved it to Draco's chest. "Drink it."

Draco glanced at his father and his aunt. When neither spoke in his defense, he tipped the contents into his mouth. Draco's breathing slowed and his head felt as though the room was starting to spin. The sleeping potion was already taking effect.

"Draco, have you been doting on our prisoner?" Bellatrix asked in a sharp voice.

Draco felt an odd tingling-like sensation in his mind and found himself unable prevent the answer from slipping through his lips. "Yes." He closed his eyes with dread but found that once he did so, his eyelids had become too heavy to reopen.

"What?" Lucius cried angrily. "How could you-?"

"Tell me, boy, just where does your allegiance lie?" Avery growled.

Draco felt the sleeping potion tugging forcefully at his consciousness and he begged for it to succeed before he could speak the answer. "Nowhere…" As soon as the word left his mouth, his body fell to the floor.

* * *

Hermione woke to the sound agonized screams. The man's hoarse voice sounded near. Her own body ached in sympathy at the man's tortured cries. His screams stopped suddenly and Hermione stared up at the door. Whoever it was, he was in the drawing room.

"Draco." A cold, high voice chilled the area with an air of arrogant disappointment. Hermione stopped breathing. The man being tortured was Draco, and even more concerning was the voice that spoke; Voldemort was there, just on the other side of the door. "I was told I could trust you. How proud and committed you seemed. But how cowardly and weak you turned out. I have no time to waste on pitiful creatures such as you." Another rough yell rent the air and Hermione felt the tears begin to slide down her cheeks.

As soon as the screaming stopped, another voice, gentle and timid, spoke. "My Lord..."

"You have something to say?" Voldemort challenged the woman to keep speaking. Hermione knew that the woman would be taking great risk to continue.

"I will never deny that my son showed horrible judgment. He is weak, but he is also faithful. It was that girl..." she quickly changed tactic. "He may have had bad judgment, but he was not unfaithful. It was his task to tend to the girl. He did not disobey..."

"He knew what was expected of him," Voldemort reminded. Draco let out a quick yelp unlike the others. "What have you to say of your son, Lucius?"

There was a pause before a harsh voice answered. "He is no son of mine."

"My Lord." The sound of Bellatrix's voice caused Hermione to cringe involuntarily. There was another great pause.

"Bellatrix... you have something to say in your nephew's defense?"

"Not in his defense," she answered seriously. "He knew his actions were treasonous and he admitted that his allegiance does not lie with us." She sounded truly disgusted by her own nephew. "But still, I see opportunity."

"I'm listening," Voldemort prompted.

"If you were to consider sparing the boy's life, at least for now, he may be able to be of some use. The Mudblood still refuses to speak despite the tactics we've used. But I have a feeling she has warmed up to Draco, perhaps she might come to trust him… Such a bond may prove useful."

"Bring her here and I will show you how to make her speak!" Voldemort spat.

"She's unconscious, My Lord," Avery spoke apprehensively. "An unfortunate result of a poorly brewed potion. She still would not wake when we retrieved _this_rubbish." Hermione could nearly hear his sneer and imagined his eyes burning a line straight at Draco, all the while concerned about what Voldemort's reaction would be toward himself and the other interrogators.

"Very well," Voldemort's voice was sharp, infuriated by the day's events. "Your life has been extended, boy, but not for long."

A scream started low and grew in volume until Hermione buried her face in her hands. Not a minute later, the door opened. Hermione remembered Voldemort's threat to interrogate her and she feigned sleep. Draco was pushed backward down the stairs, landing on his back at the bottom. The air was knocked from his body with the force of his fall. The man at the top of the stairs spit at him in disgust before throwing the door shut with a loud bang. Hermione kept her eyes closed, listening to Draco's short, shallow breaths. The footsteps overhead were exiting the room and Hermione scurried from her position to kneel at Draco's side. His short breaths came out as soft moans through his clenched teeth. Hermione's hand gently cupped his face.

"Draco…"

"Don't touch me, Mudblood," Draco growled, turning his head from her touch. Hermione withdrew quickly but looked down at him with sad sympathy. Slowly she reached out, delicately placing her hand on his left shoulder. "I said, _don't touch me!_Just get away from me!"

Hermione closed her eyes, but did not withdraw. Her hand gingerly stroked its way down his arm toward his hand. Coming to his elbow, her fingers hesitated. The sleeve of both his robe and shirt had been ripped off. Draco howled in pain and pulled away when she touched his forearm. Hermione looked down at her fingers, and though she could not see them through the dark, she knew that they were covered in his blood. "What did they do?" she asked in a strained voice.

"I'm not worthy of the Dark Mark…" Draco's body was twitching with pain. She brushed her thumb across his cheek and he pulled away again. She let out a sad sigh and slowly turned away from him to search around in her corner. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he was looking in her direction. He couldn't hide himself from her anymore; she could see through his anger and she felt that she finally understood him. Hermione's hand finally came upon a heavy cotton cloth - her robe. It had been days since it had served its original purpose. The last few days it had come to be used as both a blanket and a towel to wipe away her blood and tears. Today it would serve another purpose.

Hermione crawled back over to Draco's side and though he wanted to look away, Draco couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. He didn't understand her. He had made it perfectly clear that he was angry and wanted to be left alone, but she acted as though she had heard none of it.

Hermione brought the cloth to her lips and bit at the neck of her robes. After she gnawed a tiny start, she took the material in both hands and ripped the robe in half down the center. Draco stared at her, utterly perplexed. She dropped one half to the floor and brought the other half to her lips again. Another rip rent the air and Hermione tossed another piece of cloth to the floor, leaving a long thick strip still in her fingers.

"This is going to hurt," she said apologetically. He felt her lift his arm onto her lap. He moaned and clenched his teeth as she bound his arm with the rough material. "It's not much, but it should help the bleeding and keep the wound clean. Is there any other-"

"No," Draco bit in a voice harsher than he meant. Hermione nodded and knelt in silence by his side. Minutes passed, Hermione feeling helpless as she looked down at the injured boy. She took a deep breath and clamored to her feet. Draco started as her hands hooked under his arms. With all the strength she could muster, Hermione dragged his body toward the wall. She sat down with her back against the wall and placed Draco's head in her lap. He glared at her, resenting her kindness. He didn't want it, especially from her; he didn't deserve it and it angered him. Hermione tipped her head back to rest in the corner, her eyes on the ceiling. Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Not a single noise was heard but for Draco's ragged breaths.

"Why?" Draco growled.

Hermione looked down at his face and was troubled by his continued anger. "What?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Why? Why don't you hate me? After everything I've done to you… You should loathe me. Why do you treat me like this?" Draco muttered through clenched teeth. "Like a _friend._"

"You're all I have," she answered in almost a whisper. A terrible ache of despair twisted inside of her upon finally speaking the words aloud. "Besides, I never actually _hated_you. Believe me, I wanted to… But I saw past your act. You acted arrogant and mean, but you were suffering and angry…I couldn't hate you because I knew you weren't the person you wanted everyone to see. I never knew you."

His body shuddered as he fiercely suppressed his sobs. "I imprisoned you! How could you-"

"_They_imprisoned me…just like they imprisoned you in the Dark Lord's service. I know you didn't want this." She was frightened telling him this, her voice meek. She may not have hated him, but she knew he despised her.

"I didn't." Draco's shoulders shook again in attempt to hold back his tears.

"Of all the people to fear, I should be the least..." Hermione slowly ran her fingers through his hair.

"What?" His voice was quiet but still sharp and bitter.

"There's no shame in crying," Hermione explained, "especially in front of me."

Draco's face contorted with rage. _Why can't she understand? It's not fair she treat me like this._ His face relaxed as her hand gently stroked his cheek again. This time he turned into it, accepting her touch. Never, _never_ had anyone in his entire life touched him and cared for him so tenderly. Something inside him broke. His body shook with great sobs, tears streaming down his face. Hermione lightly ran her fingers through his soft hair, petting him with a soothing touch like her mother had done to her when she was a child. Draco buried his face against her stomach, weeping openly, comforted by her warmth and tenderness.

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**I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, but I hope you liked it.**

**Please review!**


	7. Something Like This

**I apologize now. This chapter is where the story takes a real angsty turn.**

* * *

**Something Like This**

* * *

Waking is usually a slow process; a person tends to gradually return to consciousness. One's mind searches through clouded thoughts to remember how they got where they were. But it was not so with Draco. When he next woke, he was immediately aware of where he was and why he was there. His head still lay comfortably in Hermione's warm lap and he looked up at the shadow of her face. She was slouched in the corner, her head resting awkwardly on her shoulder. His chest ached as his mind replayed the evening's events. His body burned as he remembered the feel of the Cruciatus Curse.

_Was it worth it?_It seemed a ridiculous question, one he thought that he should easily be able to answer negatively. But he couldn't. He wasn't sure of the answer or even why he would consider such a question. The Torture Curse was something that he avoided at all costs, and yet, he survived it... Not only had he made it through the torture session, he felt a sort of thrill from his defiance.

Draco sat up slowly and Hermione startled awake with a whimper. She looked at him with panic. "D-Draco?"

"Yeah," he answered. He knew that she was still piecing her thoughts and memories together. Her question was not to get his attention, but to confirm his identity. She awoke frightened and it caused him pain to know how much she'd suffered.

"Are-Are you alright?" she asked tentatively.

Draco took a deep breath, slightly annoyed by her question. What was he supposed to say? She was genuinely concerned for him and he felt the desire to ease her mind, but he was anything but fine. His body ached and burned, his head was throbbing from when he landed at the bottom of the stairs and his arm seared with severe pain. "Yeah, I'm alright."

Silence filled the room as they both became lost in their thoughts. "I-I'm sorry."

"What?" Draco asked, even more irritated.

"It's my fault you're here. If I-"

"Stop it, Granger," Draco said flatly. "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm here because I… It's my own doing."

More silence followed as Hermione considered his words. Finally she asked the question she'd held onto for days.

"Why? Why would you risk so much for me?"

"I risked nothing. I had nothing to lose. I lost it all years ago," he grumbled in reply.

"But…"

"Look. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. Day after day, I listened to news of progress - deaths, torture, and raids. Then you came…" Draco paused. "It's over now. Your side is losing and the thought… I just didn't want to see it end like this."

"Then…Then…" Hermione was too afraid to ask and just let her question drop.

"Then why was I part of them?" Draco offered. "Not really much choice to it. My father was a Death Eater. I knew he was doing what the Dark Lord wanted. He screwed up so the Dark Lord 'offered' me a job to make up for my father. It's not like I went and signed up for anything," Draco grumbled darkly. "Being here doesn't automatically make me want to see him succeed. I mean, I thought I did at first, but... He fucked up my life! I'd rather go down with them than rise with them. And I thought… I thought with you and Potter in hiding and that Order of yours… I thought you might be able to end it. But with you here, what's the point in hoping? Listening to you scream, looking at you day after day. You were fierce and strong and to see you so broken… That's what the whole world is going to look like now. I'm not sure what I thought it would be like, but I didn't want this."

"It's not over, Draco. We're not losing," she said with calm defiance. "We're close, so close to ending this. Didn't you hear him last night? The Dark Lord is scared. What we were doing before I was captured…"

"Don't tell me!" Draco interrupted forcefully. "I can't know."

"What we were doing will end it, end _him_," Hermione continued. "We're just weeks, maybe even days away from the end of this."

"Weeks?" he asked. "And just how much longer do you think you'll last? They're getting more and more impatient with you. They won't stop until you either break down and tell them something or break down mentally."

"I just have to hold out as long as I can. It's all I can do. They're looking for me - I know they are - and the Order won't stop until they find me," Hermione stated with a confident voice that wasn't completely genuine.

Draco looked down at his hands and let out a slow breath. "I hope they do."

Draco pressed his back against the wall and lifted his hand to protect his eyes as light poured in through the open door. The shadow of a man came slowly down the stairs. At the sight of the man's cane, Draco jumped to his feet, fixing a defiant glare upon his father.

"Don't look at me like that, Draco," Lucius commanded.

"I'll look at you any way I please. You're not my father, _remember_?" Draco retorted.

"No, I am not," the man agreed, sneering at the young man he once called his son. "You have no idea what you have done, not just to you, but to your mother and me. You have dishonored our name and embarrassed us all."

"Me? It was _you_ that disgraced the name Malfoy the day you joined _him_. From the day I was born, I have suffered shame because of you! You're the one that brought this all upon us - upon _me_! I never wanted this and I couldn't be prouder to rid the name Malfoy," Draco spat at the man.

"NO!" Hermione shrieked as the handle of the man's cane came down on the side of Draco's face. Draco stumbled, trying to keep his balance from the force of the blow. Even through the pain, he felt a thrill in standing up to his father. It was liberating to speak his mind openly and he felt a swell of power from the way his speech affected the man.

"Ahhh!" Draco screamed in agony as the bottom of the cane stabbed his foot. Hermione's stomach churned as she heard his bones break.

"Stop it!" she cried.

Lucius finally turned to look at her and sneered as though looking on something truly disgusting. "So you _have_taken to him... Come take her," he barked with a glance at the door.

Upon his order, two men entered the room and started toward Hermione. She scrambled to her feet, pressing her body into the corner. She glanced at Draco in terror.

"Stop!" Draco shouted, turning toward her. He grunted as his father's cane pressed into his throat, pinning him to the wall.

"She is not your concern," he said with disdain. Draco spat in his father's face, earning him blow to the chest and another swell of pride in himself. Lucius snorted in disgust, staring at the boy with utter revulsion before turning on his heel, following the two men and struggling girl up the stairs. Draco immediately forgot himself and his silly little victories when he remembered Hermione again and what possibly awaited her.

"Don't hurt her!" Draco shouted. He took a step toward the door and fell to his knees, his broken foot splintering with pain. He ran his fingers through his disheveled blond hair, his father's words repeating in his head. _'She is not your concern.'_Not his concern? Of course she was his concern. Seeing to her well-being was the whole reason he was tossed down there. She was even more his concern since he was caught.

_'You're all that I have now.'_Her whispered admission the night before had shaken him to the core. He felt sick wondering where they were taking her and to what end.

"Don't hurt her," he breathed.

* * *

Hours later, the door opened and Draco staggered to his feet, his right leg bearing his weight so as not to cause further damage to his left foot. He stared up at the shadows and gasped in horror. His eyes first landed upon the face of Rabastan Lestrange, then immediately to the weight in his arms. His hands were hooked under Hermione's arms, dragging her limp, naked body down the stairs.

"What did you do to her? Where are her clothes?" Draco breathed in horror.

Lestrange chuckled and smirked at Draco, dropping Hermione unceremoniously onto the floor and retreating up the stairs. Draco used the few seconds of light that he had to examine her. A great part of her thigh bore a dark bruise, many more bruises scattered over her chest, bite marks - two of them - one on her shoulder and the other on the flesh of her breast. He stared at her face, her head canted to the side, her skin white as a sheet. Draco stared down at her broken body, seething in rage and dismay. The door slammed shut, throwing them into darkness once again.

"You fucking bastards! What did you do to her?" His face contorted in fury and an unwelcome tear gathered in his eye. His lip trembled as he looked down at the shadowed outline of her body. In the short time since he was tortured and tossed into the cellar, Draco's thoughts toward Hermione changed. He had suffered the same treatment she had; they had become almost like equals on some level, to the Death Eaters, anyway. He was furious about it at the start, but when he woke and felt the thrill of power and freedom in his treasonous acts, he believed that he and Hermione could struggle together. She took care of him and he could take care of her and they could stay strong. How his mind had wandered so far from reality, he had no idea. They were doomed - both of them.

His heart broke at the same time his hope fled. There were no victories in his treason. They lost. Hermione lost. She was the reason that he disobeyed his orders and it didn't help her a bit.

_And this..._ he thought as he quickly looked over her injuries. _I never imagined this..._

His fingers wove into his hair, tugging at it in helpless confusion and fear. He knew they were ruthless and unrelenting, but he never imagined_this_. He acted so suddenly that he even surprised himself. Clawing at his back, yanking his shirt from his body faster than he would have thought possible, he fell to his knees at her side. He cupped her face in his hand and gently wiped the cold sweat from her brow. He gingerly lifted her head and pulled his slate blue jumper over it and delicately pulled her heavy limp arms into the sleeves. Sitting back and looking at her, he ran his hand through his white-blond hair again. Never had he felt so unsure of himself and what to do. He nodded to himself as though deciding on his next course of action and undid his trousers and removed his boxers. He placed his black cotton boxers on her body as he redressed in his trousers. Just as gently as with his shirt, he pulled his boxers up her legs. He lumbered to his feet, his foot splintering in pain, and carefully, as though she were made of glass, Draco lifted her from the floor, cradled her in his arms, and hobbled to the corner. He pressed his back to the wall and slid slowly to the floor. He gulped and looked down at her. More than ever she appeared a helpless little girl. She looked so broken...

Draco slid his arm out from under Hermione's legs and picked his robe off the floor, covering them both like a blanket. Gently, he nudged her head from the crook of his arm to rest upon his chest. His lips trembled as he looked at her face and brushed his hand through her hair in a soothing manner as she had done to him just the night before.

_'You're all that I have.'_ Her words were true for him also. She was all he had then, too. _And look at the state she's in._

Slowly, the tears ran down his cheeks. _What was the purpose of standing up for her if I can't protect her from something like this?_

* * *

Draco awoke to the sound of soft whimpering. He felt a great weight on his chest and lap. Slowly his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at the girl in his lap. All of his memories returned instantly. The girl whimpered pathetically, the tiniest of sobs issuing from her lax body.

_She's sleeping, _Draco realized.

He looked around uncertainly, not sure what to do. "Hermione." She whimpered again. _Too harsh, Draco. Softer…_

"Hermione," he spoke quietly, gently. "Hermione."

She startled awake, her breaths ragged. She quickly pulled her head off Draco's chest, the robe slipping off of them. She looked confused and frightened as she looked at his shadowed face through the darkness.

"Hermione, It's Draco. I'm just Draco," Draco stared at her with concern. He knew that she was not truly afraid of him, but she looked so terrified and uncertain.

"D-Draco…?" she asked, still severely shaken.

"Yes, Hermione. Just me. You're safe for now," he assured. He hated to say 'for now' but he felt he'd be lying if he didn't. He felt her body trembling as she sat on his lap.

"Draco," there was relief in her voice this time.

"Y-you alright?" he asked tentatively rubbing her upper arm consolingly. Slowly she let her head fall to his chest but she jumped back immediately as her cheek came in contact with his bare skin. She quickly looked down at herself and felt the cloth on her chest and the missing left sleeve where Draco had been cut. She turned to face him, searching for his eyes in the darkness. "They didn't give yours back," Draco explained looking down at the floor to his side. Hermione touched her lap, feeling his cotton boxers.

"Y-you saw…" she started pathetically. Her tears came almost instantly.

"I covered you," he interrupted. He didn't want to make her feel any more shamed than she already was.

She buried her face in her hands and cried uncontrollably. Draco looked at her uncomfortably. He wanted to make her feel better but he'd never had to comfort someone before, especially not for something like this. He swallowed hard and nervously stroked her hair. At this light touch, Hermione buried her face to his chest, her hand resting on his stomach. Assuring himself that this was a good thing, Draco pulled her closer to himself and continued to stroke her hair. Her unrestrained tears ran fast and hot down his firm chest. He reached down again to retrieve the fallen robe and covered them both in it. His hand came to rest on her neck, holding her head against him. He bent his head down, his nose buried in her hair, and instinctively kissed the top of her head. How could anyone cause her this kind of pain? The Cruciatus Curse was the most severe physical pain that could be inflicted on a person. But what they did to her… Not all pain is physical. Draco's jaw tightened. He knew they would stop at nothing, but he had never imagined something like this. He would do anything to prevent this from happening again.

* * *

***pout***

**I feel bad writing stuff like this, but this is just where the story goes... For any concerned - no matter how angsty it gets, I'm a happy ending kind of person.**

**Please Review.**


	8. Ignemanus

**Ignemanus**

* * *

Time passed slowly, though they didn't really know how long. They knew it must have been a day, possibly two. Though the next time they woke both felt embarrassed and unsure of their closeness, they couldn't bring themselves to separate, always sitting by one another, always in slight contact with each other. Sleep came and went; there wasn't much else to do. Draco took a deep breath and stared up at the door. It had only opened twice since Lestrange had returned her to him, both times only to deliver water. But the peace would not last and he knew it. Just as he finished that thought, the door opened. Hermione began to hyperventilate, coming very close to tears. Draco instinctively rose to his feet and stood in front of her, hiding her in the corner, his fists clenched by his sides. Draco saw something float down the staircase and clang to the floor by his feet. It was just a tray of food. He let out a slow, calming breath. _Not yet…_

Hermione whimpered with relief. "About damn time!" Draco shouted up at the closed door. He hadn't eaten since he got there. They'd only received water the last few days and they were famished. Draco pulled the tray toward them and began examining their rations with his fingers. "Only one large sausage and two pieces of bread, and water of course."

"We-we should ration it…" Hermione tentatively suggested.

"Yeah. Who knows when they'll decide to be so generous again," he said bitterly. Draco picked up the sausage and broke it in half, handing half to Hermione. "Just eat a couple bites. Same with the bread."

"Yeah," she agreed. They ate in silence, trying to eat slowly and enjoy each bite. Draco took a couple of tiny sips of water before handing it to Hermione. She let out a great sigh, sitting back against the wall. Her upper arm was barely in contact with Draco's but having him near was still so comforting.

Her stomach growled. It was odd but she actually felt hungrier after having a few bites than she had when she was starving. Draco grumpily shoved the tray to the side. It seemed that he felt the same. He stared up at the door again becoming increasingly frustrated each time he did.

"_Incendio,_" Draco said quietly, twisting his fist and spreading open his thumb, index, and middle fingers as he spoke. "_Incendio._"

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked quietly.

"What does it look like?" he muttered. He sighed, immediately aggravated by his own harsh reply. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't … I'm trying to work wandless magic. I saw Snape do this before. I wish I would have mastered it earlier."

He looked over at her, becoming more frustrated by her downcast expression. "What?" he snipped.

"Have-have you ever tried 'Ignemanus' before? It… It might be easier…" Hermione suggested timidly.

"Wait… what is that?" Draco asked, mentally dissecting the spell to its Latin roots. "Hand fire? Like portable fire?"

"Yeah. It _is_portable fire, sort of like bluebell flames, but the less complicated form. I-I just thought that… well… Incendio is shot from the end of a wand at a target. Ignemanus is conjured for the user. I-I just thought it might be easier to conjure than propel…" she offered quietly.

"Why do you do that?" Draco grumbled, feeling a bit piqued. Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip. She knew she shouldn't have said anything. People always hated when she acted like a know-it-all, especially Draco, and the last thing she wanted was to upset the only person she had to talk to. She had only wanted to help, though. "Why do you always stutter when you talk to me? Am I really that frightening to you?" he asked with bitter annoyance.

Hermione was taken aback by his question. He wasn't upset by her response, but her anxiety when she spoke. "I… I didn't want to upset you. No one likes a know-it-all."

"Being smart isn't a crime," he said flatly. "And you might be right. Just…just don't act like that. If you've got something to say, just say it." He didn't look at her while he spoke, assuming she might be sad or afraid. He didn't want to be feared. Altering his hand motions to simply opening his hand in front of him, Draco attempted the new spell. "_Ignemanus. Ignemanus. Ignemanus."_

A few more minutes passed before Hermione spoke again. "Draco…"

"_Ignemanus._What?"

Hermione took a deep breath. He said that if she had something to say, she should just say it.

"Why did you hate me?"

"_Ignemanus._What?" he demanded, looking at her angrily.

Hermione closed her eyes, regretting her forwardness. Her teeth tugged on her bottom lip.

Draco took a deep breath, realizing that this was exactly why she was afraid to talk to him. He softened his attitude and his voice with it. "I never hated you... Okay, I did, but not because of anything about you. I hated everyone and you were just a good target," he said flatly. Looking at her again, he knew that he'd have to continue. He took another deep breath before speaking in an even softer voice. "I acted like I didn't care because that's what was expected of me…" Hermione looked at him, utterly confused.

He sighed. She wasn't making this easy. "You know who my father is. That's who I was meant to be. Powerful. Cold. The best – it's what being a Malfoy means. Pureblood supremacy is all I've ever heard about. When I met you it changed everything in my mind. You were just some Mudblood who beat me at everything. I realized then that what I really wanted could never be bought. You had everything I wanted and it killed me. You were the smartest, had loyal friends, ambitions, respect that you earned. I had my father's ambitions for me and I never met his expectations. I couldn't beat you in the classroom or Potter at Quidditch. And friends… I never had friends," he growled bitterly. "Malfoys are above friends; we have followers: people who are only loyal as long as you have power, money, and influence. It's who I was born to be."

"You're not your father, Draco. You never have been. No matter how you tried to pretend you were… You're so much better than him. I just – "

"You don't know that, Granger," Draco grumbled quietly.

"I'm 'Granger' again?" Hermione asked, feeling both hurt and irked.

"No. I just…"

"You can act as mean and terrible as you want but you won't fool me. You know you're nothing like your father. I see the person you really are, Draco, and I don't know where I'd be if it weren't for you…" Hermione looked over at him, trying to catch his eye but to no avail.

"Don't worry about it."

"No," she insisted, placing her hand on his. "Thank you."

Draco sighed and looked down into her face. "I'd take it all back if I could, you know, at school I mean. If I could do it over…"

"Don't. Regret is only good for wallowing in self-pity," Hermione said flatly. It was a lesson that took her years to discover. "Don't look back on who you were; work on who you choose to be."

Draco chuckled. "Well don't you know how to put a guy in his place."

Hermione looked down and blushed. "I've had a lot of practice with Harry and Ron."

"I always knew you had them whipped," Draco laughed.

Hermione smiled and leaned her head against Draco's arm. "Draco, if I weren't a Mudblood-"

"Don't call yourself that," Draco snapped.

Hermione smiled to herself. "If I weren't a Muggle-born," she corrected, "do you think we might've gotten along?"

"I'd like to think so… but I doubt it. I'd still have been arrogant and I'd have been really peeved when you put me in my place," Draco smiled.

"Might've done you some good."

"Now who's arrogant?" Draco chortled.

"I never said I wasn't," Hermione chuckled. After a moment's silence, a smile still on her face, Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her cheek still pressed against Draco's arm. This was nice. It felt nice to laugh.

"Tired?" he asked.

"No... But sleeping will make me forget how hungry I am," Hermione explained. Draco's stomach growled in response.

"I think I'll join-"

The door flew open, interrupting their thoughts. Hermione's smile immediately turned into a look of horror. Draco scrambled to his feet again, hiding Hermione behind himself, scowling at the men that were descending the stone staircase.

"Get out of the way, Draco," Avery ordered.

"No! You leave her alone! She doesn't have anything to tell you. Just leave her alone!" Draco shouted forcefully.

"I said move!" Avery bellowed, raising his wand and taking a step toward Draco.

"I won't let you hurt her!" Draco growled. Avery took another threatening step toward Draco. "_Ignemanus!_" Blue flames ignited in Draco's right palm, stunning even himself. Shaking his surprise and concentrating on his purpose, Draco placed his hand on the Death Eater's arm. The fire sprung to life on his robes, rising up his shoulder.

"_Augamenti!_" Rabastan Lestrange yelled, aiming a water spell at Avery's robes. The flames did not cease. "It's waterproof!"

"Well, fucking put it out!" Avery demanded.

In the confusion, Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and made a break toward the stairs.

"_Stupefy!_"

Draco's body fell limply to the floor.

* * *

***pout***

**I feel bad writing stuff like this. But this is just where the story goes... But for any concerned - no matter how angsty it gets, I'm a happy ending kind of person.**

**Please Review.**


	9. Held Tight

**Held Tight**

* * *

Draco awoke on the cold stone floor, completely unaware of how much time had passed. He immediately began to panic. "Hermione? Hermione, are you here?" He crawled across the floor to their usual corner, feeling through the dark as he went, searching for her dark outline. "Hermione, please answer me." He reached the empty corner and sped up his search through the rest of the room. "Hermione, are you here?"

After searching the room, Draco sat at the bottom of the stairs. _If only I had acted faster…_

He put his head in his hands. There was nothing to do but wait. Only a few minutes later a commotion overhead caught his attention.

"Stop her!"

Straining his ears, Draco heard her whimper loudly.

"What is she doing with the wand?" a man barked with anxiety.

"It doesn't matter. Stop her!" Lucius commanded.

"_Stupefy!_" voices chorused together. Draco heard the thud as her body hit the ground. He scurried up the stairs on his hands and feet.

"Stupid bitch," Avery spat.

Draco pounded on the door. "Open the door! Hermione! Open the fucking door!"

"Open it," Lucius shrugged. Draco seethed at his father's voice. The door opened and Avery glared daggers at Draco, the greater part of his right side singed with angry, red flesh peeking through the charred cloth of his robes from Draco's earlier spell.

Draco paid him no mind. Searching the room, he saw Hermione's body lying on the floor in front of the fireplace. He hobbled a painful jog over to her. A man made to move toward him, but Lucius put out a hand to stop him. Draco rolled her over to look at her. She still had his boxers on, but her shirt was missing. Draco gasped when the first thing he saw was a large gash running from her collar to her right hip. Her lips were covered in blood that was running down her chin and neck. As he continued looking down her body he noticed blood smeared on the inside of both of her thighs. He was shaking with fury when he rounded on the men. "What did you do to her, you sick bastards!" Draco bellowed.

"Now, now Draco. Purebloods are hardly bastards," Lucius scoffed.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded.

"Should we tell him?" Avery smirked.

"No. Where is your decency? We must afford the lady her privacy," Lucius taunted again, staring Draco in the eye.

Draco defiantly looked to the side, trying to calm his anger. All he needed now was more reason for punishment...

"Where is her shirt?"

"You mean this rag?" Avery chucked the shirt at him and Draco snatched it from the air. He walked up to Hermione but granted himself one more glare over his shoulder before he bent down and lifted her into his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut as her bare chest pressed against his, smearing her blood over his body, the blood on her legs dripping onto his wrists.

"Could you at least revive her?" Draco asked in a tense restrained voice.

"She'll wake in due time," Lucius replied.

Draco took a second to compose himself before limping toward the cellar door, a stony, defiant expression locked on his face. He hated returning there of his own will, but there was nothing else he could do. He walked to their corner and slid down the wall just as he had done with her days before. His eyes followed the large cut down her chest, his sigh turning into more of a whimper. He set the blue jumper down beside him and covered them both with the robe instead. If he put her shirt on too soon, it would just rip the cut open later. He pulled her head to his chest and buried his face in her hair.

"I'm sorry," he wept.

* * *

"Draco…?" Hermione whispered in a weak voice.

Draco startled awake and looked down at the girl in his arms. "Hermione! Are you alright?" He regarded her with a lost look in his eyes. It was hard to see her in the dark, but it almost looked as though she were smiling. Her body started to shake and Draco ran his fingers through her hair. His brow was deeply creased, making him look as if he was in pain. He stared at her, deeply bewildered and concerned as her sobs seemed to be a combination of both laughter and crying. "Hermione?"

Hermione's crying started to sound even more like demented laughter. "Did-did you see Lestrange?" she asked through sobs.

"Rabastan…?" Draco thought of the earlier scene in the drawing room. "No. Hermione, what happened?"

A loud chuckle escaped her lips, followed by a heavy spate of tears. "I bit him…." Draco stared at her with uncertainty, waiting for her to continue, but she didn't.

"Hermione… your legs… they're covered in blood. What did they do to you?" Draco asked very slowly. He needed to know but was terribly afraid of the answer.

"Not that. Not this time… They just cut me… my chest. Then he started to cut up my thigh and-and I bit him." She chuckled again. It was such a pitiful and disturbing laugh that it cut Draco deeply. "I bit a chunk right out of his arm… then-" A double chuckle rumbled in her chest but it was cut off too quickly. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard anything so disturbing.

"Then," she continued as if she'd never paused, "I grabbed his wand and stunned him and I-I just ran." At the conclusion or her brief explanation, Hermione completely broke down in tears, crying uncontrollably against Draco's shoulder. He held her head against him and stroked her back soothingly. Slowly, minutes fading away with her tears, Hermione calmed herself to nothing but listless slow breaths. "Draco…" she whispered, her forehead resting in the crook of his neck, "when will they give up and just kill me?"

Draco was distressed by the casualness in which she asked her question, as if she was just waiting for it to happen. "They won't. We're going to get out of here. You said so yourself. They're looking for you. This is almost over. They're coming," he said earnestly.

"You don't really believe that… It's been weeks. If they haven't found me yet…"

"They will," he said forcefully. "You know they won't give up 'til they do."

"I-I tried to send them a message when I took his wand... but I couldn't finish..." Hermione said sadly.

"They'll come," Draco repeated. "Now rest."

Hermione obeyed, relaxing her body against her protector.

* * *

The next day came and went. More food was delivered. They ate the portions they had saved, but still only half of new rations. They refused to hope that they would receive food every day now. Soon after eating they returned to sleeping, Hermione sitting at Draco's side, her head against his shoulder.

"Oww… Oww… Oww…" Hermione woke to a stinging burn in her ear.

"Hermione," Draco startled awake again. It couldn't have been long after they'd fallen back to sleep. "What's wrong?"

Hermione sat up, holding her fingers over her right earlobe, gasping for breath. "It's them!"

"Who?"

"Shh… Just remember the letters!" she instructed quickly.

"What lett-"

"Shhh," Hermione closed her eyes in concentration and dictated a string of letters, a short pause between each. "H…F…O…U…N…G…Y…O...U…M…A…R…I…N…G…P…L…A…N…" She paused, not saying a word. Her breath was shaking and she looked at Draco expectantly.

"Um… some letters were wrong, but I think it was 'Found you – making plan.'"

"What is that? What are you…?" Draco was staring at her as though she may have gone mad.

"It's them. It's the Order." Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks and her smile was so large that even through the darkness, Draco could see it. "It started with 'H'! That's me! The Order knows where I am! I told you that when I had the wand, I started trying to send a message but failed, but they must have got the first part of it - 'M.A.L.' they must understand it's here! As soon as they make a plan they'll come for us!"

"Shhh…" Draco warned, looking up at the door. "What are you on about? How do you-?"

"My earring," she explained, rubbing her ear. Her breaths were coming so quickly in her excitement that she was becoming lightheaded. "We got the idea through the Dark Mark and my Protean-charmed Galleons. It's a way to send messages through the Order using Morse code."

"Using what?" Draco was becoming more and more perplexed.

"Morse code. It's an old Muggle form of communicating through a series of tapping. It stings until all members touch their rings. Then they start the code. Everyone can feel it. Short and long tapping combinations make letters."

"They're really coming then?" Draco said with some excitement. He reached out and touched her earring. It still felt warm.

"Yes. I don't know how long it will take them to make a plan, but within the next couple days, I'm sure. We just have to hold out until then." Hermione breathed slowly, laying her head on his shoulder, a contented grin on her face.

Draco's excitement began to fade. He was happy for her - sincerely happy for her - but it caused him to consider his own fate. The Death Eaters no longer considered him one of them, but he very much doubted that the "good guys" would accept his sudden change of heart.

"I know what you're thinking…" Hermione said quietly. He hadn't noticed her smile slip. She didn't lift her head, but wrapped her arm around his. "I'll tell them what you've done. They'll accept you."

"Hermione, I almost killed Dumbledore," Draco reminded miserably.

"But that's just it. You couldn't go through with it. Harry said it himself; you were lowering your wand. Draco, you're not a bad person. You were just tossed in with some horrible people. You'll be forgiven," Hermione said seriously.

"Hermione…" Draco started hopelessly.

"No. I'll protect you," she replied solemnly, a desperate look in her eye, dying to believe that she really could protect him.

He gave her a mirthless smile. He still didn't believe her, but he wasn't about to destroy her hope - his only hope.

"Come here." Draco helped her onto his lap again, pulling her head to his chest once more. She breathed in deeply.

He wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to hold her, but he knew that they both needed it.

"We're going to get out of here…" she sighed with the tiniest of smiles while already giving into sleep.

_At least you are. That's enough._ Draco pulled the robe around her, swaddling her as though she was an infant.

* * *

**Hope! There is hope!**

**I like the movement of my plot, if I didn't I wouldn't post it. But I felt really bad posting the two chapters before this. They both ended so sad and hopeless. It made me sad even though I know where this is going.**

**But now there is a spark of hope!**

**Please review! Please?**


	10. Anticipation

**Anticipation**

* * *

Draco arched his back, moving his shoulders to stretch his stiff muscles. Slowly working down his body, he flexed his feet, his tense muscles stinging with severe pain. Not only was his foot broken but his legs had fallen asleep from Hermione sitting on them. She woke with his movement and looked at him with concern.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized quickly. "I should have known I've been hurting you. You should have said-"

Draco snorted a chuckle and shook his head.

"What?" Hermione insisted, sliding onto her knees at his side. Even through the darkness, Hermione could see his smirk.

"You talk too fast," Draco answered. "That, and you worry too much. If I minded I would have shoved you off." With Hermione off his lap, he took the opportunity to better work the kinks out of his rigid body. He peered at her out of the corner of his eye and though she didn't say anything, he could tell she was still feeling guilty. "I wouldn't have let you get away even if you wanted to." Then he added in a quiet mumble, "It feels nice when you're close." Certain that his confession would make her feel better and wanting desperately to switch back to a mood that made him feel more comfortable, he spoke again before she had the chance to reply. "Ready for some breakfast? Or Lunch...? Food?"

Hermione chuckled. "Whatever it is, we probably should."

"It's sad that, even though we're starving, we don't want to eat. How is it that it hurts more when we eat than when we starve ourselves?" Draco asked bitterly.

"I could answer that scientifically if you want, but it won't help us any," Hermione offered.

"I'll pass then." Draco grabbed a quarter piece of their sausage from the day before and handed it to Hermione. "Mmm… Cold sausage and stale bread. Cheers," Draco muttered in brooding sarcasm, lifting his tiny piece of meat and tapping it to Hermione's before slowly consuming it. When they both finished eating, Hermione leaned back against the wall, her bare calves resting in front of her on the cold floor in an identical position as Draco. Both sighed miserably, but still with better morale than they had in days. Draco arched his back again and a loud crack issued from his neck when he canted his head.

"Come here," Hermione instructed, pulling at his arm. She turned her body so that Draco was positioned between her legs and began massaging his tense muscles.

"Oh, God, you're fantastic," Draco breathed, slouching forward a bit.

"That would be 'Goddess,' thank you," she teased, laughing when he groaned in rapturous delight.

"I never thought I'd hear you laugh again," Draco said seriously and sadly. "Not a real one anyway."

"But they're coming..." Hermione gave a small smile, a far off look of hope in her eyes.

Draco looked down, miserably, but was thankful that Hermione mistook it as a sign to move her massage lower on his back. He was happy for her - genuinely grateful that someone was coming to save her - but he still couldn't stop thinking of his own fate. _Will I be sent to Azkaban, or could my crimes be worth death... or a Dementor's Kiss?_ Draco shivered at the last thought. _Or maybe the Death Eaters will get to me first..._ He took a deep breath. _Draco, you knew long ago that this would not work out for you. You did this for her and they're coming for her. You've done all you can._He took another deep breath and continued speaking as though his thoughts had never strayed. "So how are you feeling?"

Hermione just sighed and continued to rub his back.

"Sorry. I'm sure you still hurt, I just... I wish I could do something," Draco explained.

"It stings," she admitted, glancing down at the soft blue jumper that covered the gash across her chest. It hurt constantly, searing with pain with each move she made. "But it's cool enough in here that it's a bit numb." She hoped this would make him feel a little better.

"So..." Draco fished around for something better to talk about. "What's the first thing you want to do when you get out of here?"

"See a Healer," she answered morosely.

"I meant after that."

"I don't know... Eat?" She really didn't sound sure, like it didn't really matter.

"Mmm, a beef roast with potatoes, carrots, and Yorkshire pudding..." Draco's mouth was watering at the thought.

"Pizza..." Hermione's hands fell away from him. He turned around at her response to see a dreamy look on her face.

"That's the Italian bread thing with sauce, right?" Draco checked.

"You mean you've never had pizza?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Well, I guess you wouldn't... They never served it at Hogwarts, and I can't really imagine your parents making it or picking it up in a Muggle neighborhood," Hermione thought aloud. "I'll make some for you though. You'll love it."

Draco swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Hermione returned her hands to his shoulders and resumed the massage. "What about dessert?" he asked.

"Bread and butter pudding with hot custard..." Hermione said, her dreamy expression returning. "You?"

"Lemon posset," Draco replied.

"You know, as good as food sounds, I think I'd rather bathe first. A nice hot bubble bath..." Hermione smiled.

"Now you're talking," Draco agreed, happy to see her spirits rising. "That sounds great right now. And to think, I used to always try to get out of taking baths as a kid. How foolish..."

Hermione began to giggle.

"What?"

"I can just imagine a little Draco running around this place covered in dirt, trying to escape a bath like a stubborn puppy," she chuckled.

"What about you? What were you like as a kid?"

"Well... I was a loner, really. It was kind of hard not to be. Weird things happened around me. People got to thinking I was a freak... So did I, actually," Hermione admitted sadly.

"I forgot you were raised a Muggle..." Draco confessed. "That had to be strange using accidental magic and not knowing what was happening."

"Yeah... the first time I really remember believing I was responsible for something that was 'impossible' was my first year in Muggle school. The teacher gave us all balloons. A boy popped mine on purpose and I was so angry that all the balloons in the classroom popped at once. Somehow I knew it was my fault, but I was too afraid to tell anyone because I knew no one would believe me. There were a lot of other things too. It was really scary, doing things that everyone says is impossible, never knowing that there were other people out there like me. One of the best memories of my entire life was when I got my Hogwarts letter. I knew instantly that it wasn't a joke. It was more than I had ever hoped for. I was special and not just some 'freak.' Knowing I wasn't alone…"

"I never thought before how hard it must be on Muggle-borns..."

"Most Muggle-borns, if they suspect something, try to keep it a secret. Many just play things off as coincidence or find some way to explain things away. But I knew I could do things and it was scary. I really wonder what it must be like to be raised in the wizarding world. I understand a lot of things, but there's still so much I don't know. I was given a book of runes and started translating it just to find that it was utter nonsense. When I told Harry and Ron about it, Ron thought I was being funny. It turned out to be The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Being raised by Muggles, Harry and I had never heard of Babbitty-Rabbitty or Grumble the Grubby Goat."

"That's not missing much…" Draco snorted.

"That's just an example. I never saw anyone ride a broom until I started school. I never saw a Portkey until I was nearly 15. Muggles are raised to believe that all things magical are make-believe. Giants, trolls, elves, vampires, and werewolves are just supposed to be stories meant to amuse children. We're taught that witches are wicked hideous green women with warts and long nails that brew evil potions and fly on brooms in the night to swoop down on children who are out after curfew."

Draco held a fist to his mouth to stifle his laughs, tears of mirth forming at the corners of his eyes. "You've got to be joking…"

"No. I'm absolutely serious," Hermione said, joining his laugh. "It took me a few years at Hogwarts before I stopped mentally becoming defensive when someone called me a witch. It was always a horrible insult among Muggles."

"Swoop down on children that are out after curfew…" Draco repeated, shaking his head.

"If you think that's funny, I'll have to tell you the Muggle children's story 'Hansel and Gretel.' Ron almost wet himself, he laughed so hard."

"Well, go on," Draco urged, trying to contain his laughter. Hermione smiled warmly. She had never heard him laugh so freely. At school he'd always been so pompous. The only laughs she'd ever heard from him were cold and derisive. He was still a little stiff, but it was more from trying to contain his laughter.

"Not now," Hermione decided. "I want to wait until I can actually see you laugh, it being such a rare thing and all…" she teased.

"Fine. But then I-"

The chamber door swung open, startling the occupants. Every laugh and pleasant thought vanished instantly. They had gotten so excited about the thought of rescue, and so comfortable in their conversation that they had temporarily forgotten just how serious their situation still was. But just that one movement, the opening of the door, brought back all of the horrors they'd experienced in that house.

"Good morning. We're not interrupting, are we?" Bellatrix jeered as she sauntered down the stairs, followed by Rabastan and Avery. A quick wave of her wand sent a ball of fire to the four ceiling corners. "That's better."

"What do you want?" Draco growled. Still sitting, he backed Hermione into the corner again. The chamber had not been lit since he was thrown into the room. They always came and just took Hermione away. It looked as though they had every intention to stay in the room. This change made Draco extremely uneasy. But at least he'd be there to help Hermione any way he could.

"Now Draco, is that any way to speak to your aunt?" Bellatrix pouted playfully.

"I'm not a Malfoy anymore and I'm not connected to you either," Draco said flatly.

"Oh Draco, I'm hurt." She pouted again but could not contain a shrill cackle. "And relax. We're not here to hurt your precious Mudblood. We've come to terms with understanding that she won't respond to torture as we had anticipated. So we've decided to try something else."

Draco's eyes narrowed. His aunt was one of the most ruthless and savage people he'd ever known. She could strike fear into people with just a glance and have them begging for death before they even learned her name. He could not think of anything worse than the Cruciatus Curse or the other torture they put Hermione through, but he was certain that this was not going to end well. _Please let the Order come for her..._

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_**Sorry... another cliffhanger. I swear I don't do it intentionally. I hope you liked this chapter. ^^**_

**Everyone remember... Reviews = Love**


	11. Deal with a Demon

**Deal with a Demon**

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"Come here, Mudblood," Bellatrix called sweetly, as though she was speaking to a young child. Hermione looked at her warily and defiantly. "I told you we aren't going to hurt you, now come here," Bellatrix said a little more forcefully.

Draco shook a few stray blond hairs from his face and stood up, his shoulders broad and challenging but his aunt just smirked. Hermione gulped and got to her feet, gently putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. He looked at her in confusion and she stepped around him, walking toward Bellatrix with her head held high. There was no way they could escape the situation. She believed it would be better to face it and spare Draco the price of protecting her.

"Still so proud, are you? You can act as proud as you want, but it won't last. See, I think I understand you. I always assume people will respond as a Slytherin, but I forget that you're a mighty Gryffindor - stubborn to a fault and valiant, dauntless and heroic to their own demise."

Hermione fixed her stare upon the taller witch's dark eyes and stuck her chin forward. Her expression was the very definition of dignified and indomitable, but it took such effort that she had difficulty remembering to breathe.

"That's exactly what I mean," Bellatrix sneered in amusement. "You're dying to know what I'm getting at but you're too proud to ask."

"I just don't want to play your game," Hermione replied flatly.

"Draco... Your Mudblood thinks this is a game." Bellatrix's shill laugh chilled the room. "Do you think this is a game, Draco?"

"To you," he answered, his voice as intense as his grey eyes.

"Too right you are. But let's get down to it," she said, taking a step toward Hermione. Hermione did not step back, firmly holding her ground. "So, girl, when I came to the conclusion that you would be too stubborn to protect yourself over your friends, I decided that maybe you'd protect a friend over your secrets. And it seems to all of us here that you've grown rather attached to our Draco." A sly smile tugged at her lips. Hermione forgot to breathe and a deep crease lined her brow. She hadn't considered this position, but she knew that it was one she should have expected. She wasn't sure what to do.

"What to do..." Bellatrix taunted. "How will you respond to the torture of poor Draco, the only one who has tried to protect you? _Crucio!_" Bellatrix's cry was sudden and unexpected. Hermione whipped around, gasping a much needed breath as her eyes snapped to the corner of the room. Draco's screams rent the air as his body twisted unnaturally on the floor in excruciating pain. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, tears forming in them already. The curse was lifted as suddenly as it had started. "So what do you think, Mudblood? This can go on for ages, you know. Unlike you, Draco is completely expendable. I need not worry about damaging his mind or sanity as we have with you."

Hermione was torn. Her mind was racing faster than it ever had.

"Don't, Hermione. I've come to terms long ago that I wouldn't make it to the end of this war," Draco insisted. "Protect you-"

"Shut him up!" Bellatrix commanded. Avery all too enthusiastically stepped on Draco's broken foot.

Another scream ripped from Draco's throat. He willed himself into silence as soon as the man had stepped away, but his eyes watered involuntarily. His lips trembled and he took long controlled breaths through his nose. Hermione gulped and looked at him, anguish etched on her face. She had been dreaming of their escape, but they would surely kill Draco if she did or didn't give them information. It was the way they were.

"Didn't like seeing his physical pain more than the Cruciatus curse? Maybe visual evidence helps you grasp it." Bellatrix glanced at Avery with a wicked grin. Avery returned her smile, pulled a knife out of his robes, and knelt by Draco's head. Rabastan Lestrange flicked his wand and ropes shot from it, binding Draco's wrists in front of him. Draco remained motionless, glancing at the dagger out of the corner of his eye, his breaths shaking in his determination to remain still. Avery pressed the tip of the dagger against the side of his neck and blood gathered at the razor-sharp edge and dripped down to the floor. Draco gritted his teeth, shaking uncontrollably as the blade was slowly dragged across his neck. It was excruciating, but was not deep enough to be lethal.

Only halfway through, Hermione broke. "Stop! Stop! Wait!"

Avery finished his cut before standing to look at her. Bellatrix gazed at Hermione with a smug expression. "Anything you'd like to say?"

"I mean it, Hermione! They'll kill me if you talk or-" Draco shouted.

"I said shut him up!" Bellatrix snarled. Lestrange walked over and stomped on the side of Draco's face. Draco screamed through his closed mouth, humming one long flat note and moaning softly to himself. He wriggled onto his side in pain, a thin line of blood dribbling from his nose. Avery nudged Draco's shoulder with his shoe, pushing Draco onto his back. Draco continued his long moaning hums to ease himself.

"Well, girl? Do you really want to see your dear Draco suffer like this? With all he's tried to do for you..." Bellatrix paused. Hermione struggled with her thoughts. Was there any way out of this? She had to do something. There had to be some way to protect him...

"If you tell them, they'll kill you too," Draco mumbled in protest. Without waiting for an order, Avery kicked Draco in the ribs.

"Just go about killing him now," said Bellatrix, waving her hand in irritation. Her voice was so casual that one would think she was merely rejecting lukewarm tea. "But slowly," she added. "Let her see it."

Draco's body continued to twitch involuntarily. He took a deep steadying breath, his slate grey eyes staring resolutely at a single focal point on the ceiling. He'd been through many things, suffered the Cruciatus curse numerous times, accepted jibes, stares, and insults his entire life. He'd never been appreciated. There wasn't much to lose. At least this act of selflessness might protect someone, protect Hermione, Harry, and the Order until they could defeat Voldemort. He would die proud, something he never thought possible. Avery brought the dagger down, the tip resting over Draco's heart. Hermione stared on in utter terror as the blade very slowly began descending straight down, slicing into his skin and muscle. Her ears were deaf to his screams as her eyes focused on the expression on his face. It was nearly enough to kill her too. Her breaths were coming short and fast and the blood spilling from Draco's chest made her feel sick inside. _I don't care if I die, but I can't let them hurt him. I have to-_

"STOP! Wait! Stop!" Hermione cried, reaching out toward Draco, desperate for Avery to withdraw. The man pulled back his dagger and wiped the blood on the leg of Draco's trousers before returning to a standing position with a smug grin.

"You have something to say?" Bellatrix asked in mock surprise.

"I'll make a deal," Hermione said firmly, her nostrils flared with her controlled breaths. She refused to cry or tremble in the woman's presence. She had to remain resolute.

"I'm not sure you understand the situation. You are in no position to be bargaining." Bellatrix chuckled in amusement at the girl's suggestion.

"I beg to differ. I think that it is you who is in no position to decline," Hermione retorted, her chin raised slightly. Bellatrix's eyes narrowed and Hermione continued. "I'm not afraid to die. You can torture and kill me and get nothing from it. And you're going to kill Draco if I speak or not. What reason is there for me to reveal anything?" She paused, allowing the Death Eaters to consider her.

"And what is it that you propose?" Bellatrix scowled. It was apparent that Hermione had the upper hand and Bellatrix did not at all appreciate it.

"I will tell you the position of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and in exchange I want Draco to be unharmed," Hermione bargained. Draco looked ready to protest. "Shhh," Hermione pleaded to him.

Bellatrix looked down at Draco as she considered the offer. "I want to know how to get into the Headquarters."

"Fine. But I want your word. Draco goes unharmed and-"

"Yes, yes. My word," Bellatrix snapped impatiently.

Hermione straightened. Her heart pumped hard in her chest. She refused to be intimidated. "Talk is cheap. I will never trust your word without an Unbreakable Vow."

Bellatrix lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "You have a lot of gall to be-"

"If you were honest with your side of the deal, then there is no harm in an Unbreakable Vow," Hermione interrupted. She would not let Bellatrix take back control of the conversation.

Bellatrix regarded the other Death Eaters in the room, many thoughts being exchanged through their glowers. "Fine!" Bellatrix barked. Hermione glanced quickly at Bellatrix's outstretched arm before meeting the woman's face again. Her eyes were wild and her lip curled back to expose her yellowed teeth in a ferocious, animalistic sneer.

"I speak the terms. I don't want you making loopholes," Hermione said extending her arm.

"But wait," Bellatrix pulled her arm back a few inches and narrowed her eyes. "What if you are untruthful?"

"It's an Unbreakable Vow - if I lie, then I die," Hermione stated simply.

"But that's just it. You've already said that you don't care about dying to hide your friends' secrets. If you lie, you sacrifice yourself and I'm still forbidden to touch Draco. My terms to the agreement are that if you should lie, Draco dies too," Bellatrix added with a smirk.

Hermione looked over at Draco and swallowed hard. "Don't," Draco demanded, scowling darkly at Hermione.  
Hermione took a deep breath, looked into Bellatrix's cold eyes and extended her hand further. "I accept." Bellatrix grasped Hermione's forearm as Hermione gripped hers. Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix's brother-in-law, placed his wand upon their hands and Hermione began to speak, choosing her words carefully. "I, Hermione Granger, do vow to truthfully reveal the location of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and the weakness in its magical barriers in exchange that Bellatrix Lestrange will do everything in her power to see that no harm be done to Draco Malfoy by any action or order of any Death Eater or Lord Voldemort. And if I should fail to truthfully reveal the location of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix and its barriers' weak point, Bellatrix Lestrange will be released from the Vow." As Hermione spoke, tongues of red fire were released from the bonder's wand, twisting their way around both women's hands.

Bellatrix's cold, dark eyes narrowed further, searching for any holes Hermione might have left in the vow. "I do swear." The fire flashed and vanished and Bellatrix jerked her hand away. "Now tell me!"

Hermione took a deep breath. "The Order of the Phoenix's Headquarters is located at The Burrow, Molly and Arthur Weasley's home, on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Yes. Yes. I know where that is. How do I get in?" Bellatrix demanded impatiently.

"Apparate to the orchard. Come down the hill toward the center of the hedge and you will come in contact with the barrier. It is at this point the barrier is weakest and can be broken with a few concentrated disarming spells," Hermione explained in monotone, looking anywhere but at the eyes in the room. She wouldn't dare make eye contact. Bellatrix and the two men stared at Hermione for a moment as if waiting for her to drop dead.

"She tells the truth. Let's go," Avery urged, already walking to the stairs. Lestrange waved his wand at Draco, releasing the ropes that bound him, and followed after Avery.

"I knew you'd come around," Bellatrix smirked and ran her wand slowly up Hermione's jaw and flicked Hermione's hair. "I'd think of ending your life, as it was never part of our little bargain, but you might just be of more use to us."

"What about Draco?" Hermione piped up.

"Do you see us harming him? We'll feed him. Maybe clean him occasionally. But I never said we'd let him free." With one last wicked grin, Bellatrix exited the room.

The door slammed shut and Hermione turned on the spot, vomiting to the side of the staircase. Her stomach was emptied the first time but her body continued to heave violently, causing her to cough up stomach acid that burned her throat and mouth. She steadied herself as quickly as possible, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She looked around at the smokeless balls of fire still dancing near the ceiling in all four corners of the room. She assumed that they had just been forgotten during the Death Eaters' hasty exit, but the light and warmth were welcome. Hermione immediately ran to Draco's broken body. His foot was swollen more than ever, blood was dripping across his neck, his chest, and his nose as he lay on the floor, his face turned away from Hermione.

"Draco, a-are you alright?" Hermione knelt by his shoulder, placing a hand on his cheek. Draco pulled his face away and stared up at Hermione with a piercing glare that shocked her.

"Why did you do that?" he growled, his teeth bared. Hermione had seen him that angry before, but never with her.

"Draco… I…"

"I told you I was ready to die. I knew long ago that things wouldn't end well for me. This was my chance to redeem myself; to spare your life until the Order could reach you and then you all go off to save the world together. In choosing to save me over protecting your friends – the only hope this world has – you damn everyone!" Hermione began to cry at the way he looked at her: with absolute revulsion.

"Draco, you don't understand…"

"No. I don't. You're not the witch I thought you were." His voice was venomous. He turned his head, too angry and disgusted to look at her.

"Draco," she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please. You have to listen to me."

Draco clenched his teeth, refusing to look at her despite the urge.

"Draco…" she pleaded. She paused, her heart begging him to look at her. After a moment passed, Hermione bent forward, her hand on his chest, her cheek pressed to his, her lips hovering over his ear. "Please listen to me, Draco," she whispered almost inaudibly. Draco wanted to pull away but felt rooted by her desperate plea. "It's not what you think." She continued to whisper in his ear, afraid of anyone somehow listening in. "I betrayed no one. The information was true, but no one will be harmed. It's a setup, our last-ditch safeguard, only to be used in face of certain death." Draco softened slightly, showing signs that he was listening and slowly tilted his face in her direction. Hermione kept her face pressed against his, still not daring to speak above a whisper, but she was encouraged by his response. "It is the Headquarters of the Order, but they only meet there on Saturday nights, and just so that it can still be called Headquarters. If they need to meet more frequently, they send a message of a different place to meet each time so that no other place can be called Headquarters. It is set up so that when anyone breaks through the barrier, shadows scurry in the house and appear as though they all have Disapparated, as though they'd just escaped. This way it does not look as though a person has lied. Then a signal is sent to each ring, like my earring, letting everyone know the Burrow is not safe and that someone is in mortal peril. They'll know it's me and they'll come as soon as they possibly can - plan or no plan." Hermione finally sat back up and looked down at Draco anxiously, tears slowly gliding down her cheeks. She spoke aloud now. "I would have stopped it as soon as it started, but I didn't know how to assure your safety."

"But an Unbreakable Vow?" Draco said incredulously, his eyebrows knit together in an emotion that Hermione could not read.

"I couldn't let them hurt you anymore," she wept, her tears increasing with vigor. "I didn't want them to hurt you at all."

Draco stared up into her deep brown eyes; they shined with such depth. When he stared into them he could actually see the intensity and honesty of her emotions. His expression softened. He never really understood until then, just how much pain they had caused her while torturing him. If they were to have killed him, it would have also killed a piece of her. Draco had become very possessive and protective when it came to Hermione, but it seemed that she also felt the same for him.

Her eyes just then were so pleading for his forgiveness and understanding. Draco reached up to her and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. She never blinked, her eyes never leaving his. He felt his heart begin to pound, his breathing becoming shallow. A new emotion was shining in her eyes and he felt so drawn to it. Slowly, as if an unknown force was tugging at their hearts, Hermione leaned down, guided by Draco's hand, and gently pressed her lips to his in a long but delicate kiss. Hermione reluctantly sat back up and returned her eyes to his.

Both of their minds and hearts were battling to properly label the bond that had grown between them over their imprisonment; something to call it; to express its boundaries, but neither of them could think of any other relationship they had seen or experienced in their lives that even remotely compared to whatever it was they had. Both wore soft shy smiles, uncertain of how to define their compassionate affections, but were unconcerned as they found comfort and contentment with each other. Hermione pulled him over to their corner once more, pulling him to rest between her legs, his head leaning back against her chest. She covered him in his robe as he had done to her.

Draco closed his eyes and continued to breathe slowly and controlled. Pain burned through his entire body, each heartbeat throbbing in every vein. Blood slowly trickled down his neck and chest, nearly driving him to insanity as he felt too weak to wipe it away. Almost as if reading his mind, Hermione reached forward and very, very lightly pressed her hand to his throat, the robe soaking up the blood. She repeated this action to his chest, holding her hand over it. Draco just moaned in appreciation. She bent her head to the side and gently kissed his temple.

"I've never met a braver witch..." Draco breathed.

"I've never met anyone as brave as you either," Hermione confessed, lightly kissing his temple again. "Please try and sleep, it will help the pain." Draco rolled his head to the side, allowing the steady beat of her heart to lull him to sleep.

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**My poor Draco! I'm sorry! I promise your suffering is almost over!**

**Please review... Please?**


	12. Help Arrives

**Help Arrives**

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"Draco… Draco, please wake up," Hermione pleaded in a small, worried voice. Her hand was still pressed to his heart as he was slouched between her legs, both of them illuminated by the balls of fire suspended in the corners of the room. "Draco…"

"Mmm…" he groaned quietly.

"Draco, _please._"

Draco moaned again, moving his head as he began to wake. Hermione hissed through her teeth with a shaky intake of breath as his head rubbed against the cut on her chest. It was this sound that quickly brought Draco back to consciousness.

"What? What happened?" he asked, turning his head again as he tried to look at her. Hermione gritted her teeth and gently moved his head into the crook of her arm. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I think about an hour. I would have let you sleep, but… You won't stop bleeding…" Hermione looked down into his face, her eyes tearing with concern. Draco looked down at her hand that was covering his heart. Slowly, he pushed the robe away and looked down at the deep cut in his chest. It was still bleeding, but only a little.

"It's not that bad. It will stop," he assured her. His voice was rough but he tried his best to sound casual.

"But…"

"Hermione, I'm alright. I promise, it looks worse than it is," he insisted, resting his head against her. He felt awful that she was so worried but at the same time, it felt nice to have someone that cared so much about him. Hermione hissed again in pain and Draco pulled his head away from her. "What's wr-?" Draco stopped short and put his hand to his cheek. He pulled it away to find a light coating of blood on it. He sat up and turned to her, staring at her chest. Just next to her left breast, in the center of her body, was a spot on her shirt that was wet with blood. "You're bleeding too… It's from me," he realized. "Why didn't you tell me I was hurting you? Why didn't you make me move?"

"It was fine when you were just resting on me. It really didn't hurt that bad. It was just when you moved that it-."

"You should have told me!" Draco interrupted angrily.

"You're bleeding, too, and you don't seem concerned," Hermione argued defensively. "It's not bad, the scab just cracked open. You act like-"

"But you didn't cause my bleeding. You were fine until-"

"Stop," Hermione demanded. "It really is fine."

Draco fell silent but his eyes were still narrowed, switching between her face and the blood on her shirt. Finally he reached down and began pulling her shirt up. Hermione quickly grabbed a hold of it and yanked it down and out of his grasp. His eyes flashed up at her in surprise. She looked frightened, and his anger and frustration fell away instantly.

"Hermione…" Draco spoke gently and cautiously and she looked down and away in embarrassment. "Hermione, you know I'd never hurt you, right?"

"I know," she affirmed in a small voice.

"No. Not good enough. Look at me. Into my eyes," he ordered, leaning down so that his face was directly in front of hers. Her face looked up but her eyes were still downcast. Draco placed his hands on either side of her face and her eyes met his. "I need you to know with every fiber of your being. I. Will. Never. Hurt. You."

Hermione couldn't pull her eyes from his even if she wanted to. The seriousness and devotion of his words burned in his eyes. "I know."

"They won't hurt you again," he stated firmly. "Because of that Vow you made, they won't chance hurting me now and I will do anything I have to do to protect you. There's nothing more to fear. The Order said they're coming and you and I are getting out of here. No more hurt. I'll protect you. I promise." Draco's declaration was spoken with such conviction that Hermione could not help but feel emboldened by it. She tried to think of something to say but nothing came. She just stared in his eyes and nodded her head. A soft, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of Draco's lips and he let go of her face. Hermione took a deep breath, but still could not figure out what to do or say next. Her mind was still locked on his words and the intensity of his deep grey eyes.

"I won't hurt you," he softly reminded her. "Will you let me have a look at that cut?"

Hermione nodded. She was neither afraid nor embarrassed when she lifted her shirt for him. Draco's eyes immediately found the freshly torn skin. The scab that had formed over was thin. It really hadn't been that long ago since she'd gotten it. A day ago, wasn't it? Two? He couldn't remember anymore.

His eyes followed the wound's path from her left collarbone down to her right hip. The cut was just through the skin, but it was spread open about an inch at its widest. As it extended down her stomach, it became thinner - not as deep - but Draco couldn't have laid his head on a worse spot. It had only been a day or so, but it looked as though it may already be forming an infection. The skin on either side of it was red and angry. Draco examined it dejectedly. It was terrible that it had been done to her, but worse that she had to keep suffering the pain of it.

"It's going to scar badly, isn't it?" Hermione sighed despondently.

"Is that what you're worried about?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well… kind of. Well, not really, but…" Hermione looked down and Draco helped lower her shirt. He said nothing but continued to watch her, waiting for her to continue.

"I guess I just… When we're out of here, back in the world, people aren't going to understand. Strangers will have no idea the significance of that scar, but worse… My friends will." Hermione stared off, talking almost mechanically as she envisioned what she spoke. "Things will never be the same after this."

"No one will be the same after this war. And there will be a lot of people with battle scars. You-"

"These aren't battle scars. Battle scars I could live with. Battle scars are something people laugh about. There is no pride in my scars - only shame. This. This whole thing…" Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill any second. "I can already see the looks on my friends' faces, all of their faces. I don't want them to see me like this. I don't want them to see or know what I've suffered." As soon as she finished, the dam broke and a spate of tears glided down her cheeks.

Draco positioned himself to her side and pulled her head onto his shoulder. "There's no shame in a single thing you've done. No one will think badly of-"

"There's no shame in what I've done but that doesn't mean there's no shame in what I've suffered. And it's not the shame so much as the pity. Every time they look at me it will be that pathetic look…"

"Don't worry about them, Hermione. The only reason they would have that look would be because they care. There are a lot worse things in the world," Draco pushed. _Like having no one that cares…_Draco thought briefly of all his family and 'friends' who would no longer be there for him, then about all of the people on the other side of the war. _I have no one…_

Hermione nodded but Draco could see that she was not convinced. He let out a sigh and put his head on top of hers. Minutes passed slowly in their silence. They were both in pain and desperate for sleep, but neither could pull their thoughts away from their potential rescue party and the hopes and fears that would come with it.

Hermione gasped and Draco's head snapped up. "What?" he panicked.

"My earring," Hermione said, placing her thumb and forefinger around it. Both sat in silent anticipation. "N…O…W…" Hermione concentrated, waiting for more but nothing more came. "Now? There was no letter before it. It's a message to everyone, but does that mean for-?" Before Hermione could finish her thought a loud explosion sounded from somewhere far off.

"That's on the grounds…" Draco proclaimed. His eyes stared straight ahead as his mind tried to calculate where the explosion took place by considering both direction and volume. Neither he nor Hermione moved a muscle as they waited for another sign.

"Hurry up! Call them now!" Nott yelled from somewhere in the distance.

"How many are there?" Avery shouted in reply.

"Enough," Nott replied.

"Kill the house-elves. Hide the cellar door," ordered Dolohov.

"On it," Mulciber answered in reply.

Hermione and Draco looked up at the ceiling as a set of footsteps entered the drawing room. They listened as a couple of spells were mumbled, followed by the swish of the tapestry and retreating footsteps. As soon as the footsteps retreated, the house fell silent.

"They're really here!" Hermione said excitedly. She looked over at Draco and her smile faltered. He looked just the opposite as she expected: he looked horrified. "Wh-what's wrong?"

"They hid the door..." he replied blankly, staring at the door at the top of the steps. "They hid the door. I always figured… I don't know. I just thought… FUCK!" Draco ran up the stairs, gritting his teeth each time his broken foot made contact with the steps, and began pounding on the door. "Let us out! Let us out! Open the door!"

"Draco?" Hermione asked nervously, slowly starting up the stairs herself.

"Fuck! It's pointless!" He shouted, slapping the door one more time before spinning away from it. "They've put up all the enchantments. No one can fucking hear us or find the fucking door when the tapestry is swung shut. DAMN IT!" Draco tugged his hair in frustration. "Why hadn't I considered this? I knew they left it undone, but of course if the enemy arrives they'll put it up." At that point Draco seemed to be just muttering angrily to himself.

"Draco…?" Hermione asked tentatively, her voice as small and high as a mouse's as she cautiously approached him.

Draco calmed his anger and looked up into Hermione's face. His eyes were hopeless and defeated. "I'm sorry," he said, his lips quivering. His eyes were on her but he looked so very far away. "I should have thought… They can't find us now," he explained finally. "That tapestry is enchanted to hide this room. The Ministry has searched our house numerous times and could never find this room… I'm sorry." Draco saw tears beginning to well in Hermione's eyes at the same time tears began to sting his own. After all their hope… "If only I had a wand!" Draco fumed. Just as soon as he finished saying it he gasped with an epiphany. "Stand back. _Ignemanus!_" Blue flames sprung to life in Draco's right hand. He stared at them with intense concentration as they grew in his palm. A bright, possessed look blazed in his eyes as he smeared the flames over the door. The wood caught fire instantly and Draco pulled his hand away, taking a step back and smiling as the fire grew.

"What are you doing?" Hermione panicked.

"The door's only enchanted from the outside. Once the fire burns through it, the enchantments will break," he explained.

"But not before we die!"

Draco looked at her with concerned confusion. "What do you mean?"

"That's the less complex spell, remember?" Hermione began to cough. "It's not smokeless like Bluebell Flames. We'll suffocate!"

Draco turned around and saw that the stairwell was already filling rapidly with smoke. "Fuck!" Draco too began coughing. "Get downstairs! The smoke is rising."

Hermione followed orders and retreated down into the chamber. It now seemed much smaller than it had only minutes ago. She looked back up the stairs and saw that Draco had not moved. He still stood at the top, staring at the door, coughing on the overwhelming smoke that surrounded him.

"Draco, get away from it!" Hermione demanded.

Draco began pounding on the burning door with his fists. "Help! Help! We're in here! Help! Is anyone there? Help!" He grimaced as the blue flames licked his arms. He flinched and pulled his hands back. The cloth wrapped around his left forearm had caught fire and he hastily ripped it off and began pounding on the door with just his right fist. "Help! HELP!" Draco's coughing became so intense that he could no longer speak.

"Get down here!" Hermione commanded.

Grudgingly, Draco complied, hobbling down the stairs in a coughing fit. He paced with his teeth clenched, blocking out the pain of his broken foot. The smoke was quickly filling the room. There were only minutes left. Draco stared at Hermione, his mind racing in desperation. Both of their coughs were becoming stronger as the smoke continued to thicken. "Sit down," Draco ordered.

Hermione sat on the floor as Draco continued to pace, running his hand through his hair. A noise overhead startled them and they both looked at each other as if to ask if the other had heard it.

There was someone in the house again.

"Left first," a voice shouted from far off.

Draco glared up at the burning door that was completely encased in flames. There was no possible way for him to go up there to either shout or pound. His eyes fell to the floor and upon a new hope. He bent down and picked up the metal food tray and walked halfway up the stairs before he began banging the tray against the stone wall. "HELP! Help! We're in here!" Draco's cries ceased there. The smoke in the stairwell had become too thick for him to breathe without ceaseless coughing. His coughs, however, sounded nearly as loud as his shouting and therefore helped his purpose. He looked down the stairs, still banging the tray loudly, and could hardly make out Hermione's form through the smoke. Her coughing was nearly as bad as his. "Lie down!"

Hermione laid flat on her back, her head to the side, trying to breathe what little clean air was left in the room.

"What's that noise?" a familiar voice called.

"Lupin…" Hermione smiled. Draco, becoming weaker, put forth all the energy he had into banging against the wall.

"In here!" Fred shouted.

"Blue fire?" Lupin asked curiously.

"Bluebell Flames - Hermione's specialty! She's in there!" cried Fred.

"Hermione?" Lupin shouted through the door. "If you can hear me, get away from the door!"

Draco started sliding backward down the stairs on his knees and stopped beside Hermione. "It's over…" He collapsed face-down on the floor beside her.

"_Bombarda!_" Lupin shouted. The door blasted in, sliding down the stairs as the smoke billowed from the room.

"Hermione?" Lupin called as he scrambled down the stairs, Fred on his heels.

"She's there!" Fred shouted.

Lupin knelt beside her and scooped her into his arms in one smooth motion. "Who's that?"

Fred turned Draco's body over to better examine the bloody and disfigured facial features. In its current state, the face was nearly unrecognizable. "Draco Malfoy."

"Leave him; the others will come for him," Lupin ordered, turning toward the stairs.

"NO! Wait!" Hermione cried through her fit of coughing. "You have to take him!"

"Hermione, we have no time to collect Death Eaters," Lupin started. "The others are-"

"NO! He's not! You have to take him!"

"Hermione," Fred yelled over the roaring noise that pulsed over the entire property. "We can't take him where we're going. The others will-"

"NO! I won't leave him!" Hermione shouted. Tears were already falling from her eyes from the sting of the smoke, but at her rescuers' refusal they increased in their intensity. "He's not them! He saved me!"

"Hermione," Lupin said forcefully.

"NO! Then put me down! I won't leave him!" she shouted, pounding Lupin's shoulder with her fist and wriggling in his arms.

"Fred, just take him!" Lupin ordered.

"But," Fred protested. "We can't take him to-"

"Just take him! I'll deal with it!" Lupin commanded urgently.

Fred obediently bent over and picked up Draco's limp body, draping him over his shoulder. Lupin nodded curtly and they both jogged up the stairs and through the deserted house.

"Lupin…" Hermione managed through coughs. "Trust Draco... Protect him… Please…"

Lupin nodded to her but Hermione knew that he didn't understand.

"He saved me, Remus… Protect him… Promise me!" Hermione demanded, her chest still burning from the smoke even in the cool night air. "Promise!"

Lupin stared down at her face as he jogged after Fred. Hermione stared up at him, her body shaking weakly as she continued to cough, her eyes pleading for his assurance.

"I promise. He'll be looked after," Lupin agreed.

"We've got her!" Fred bellowed to the world at large. Hermione saw a fox Patronus bound across the grounds, no doubt sending the message of her rescue to the other Order members. "Now?" Fred asked Lupin. Lupin nodded and Hermione felt a last cough erupt from her lungs as she felt as though her body was being squeezed through a small tube. As suddenly as the feeling began, it ended. Hermione rolled over in Lupin's arms and retched on the ground in front of them. She wiped the sick from her lips with her sleeve as she put her head back against Lupin's arm and gazed up at a manor near as grand as the Malfoy's, only with a much more welcoming feel to it. It was made of red brick, ivy climbing up its side. Its many windows were glowing warmly through the dark night. Lupin started walking them up a flagstone path with Fred right behind them, still carrying Draco over his shoulder. Hermione felt her head spinning, her chest still burning. She knew she was going to pass out but was pushing it off with all the energy she had left.

"Oh Merlin! You found her! Thank the heavens!" A small smile tugged at Hermione's lips when she recognized the voice of Mrs. Weasley bustling over to them.

"Is she alright?" Ginny cried from close behind.

Hermione looked up at Lupin. She knew she was slipping away. "You promised…"

Lupin's nod was the last thing she saw before the darkness closed in around her.

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**Hooray! FINALLY rescued! What did you think? How am I doing?**

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	13. Protector

**Protector**

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Draco's thoughts and memories were still buried deep; the calculation of his senses taking the forefront of his mind as he slowly began returning to consciousness. Pain. Pain was the first and most dominant feeling. Warm. The air around him was comfortable. Light. He could see a soft flickering glow through his closed lids. Soft. The surface he was laying on was soft and plush. The smell. Draco's eyebrows twitched as he tried to place the scent. It smelled old, like ancient dust, a dull musty smell, yet not unpleasant. It was sweet, almost floral. It reminded him of the unused formal sitting room at the Manor. That, and his friend Pansy's grandmother's house. _Friend,_ he thought bitterly. _I have no friends. No family..._His thoughts were returning now with many questions. _No friends and no family? The war. The chamber. The smoke. Hermione! What happened?_

Draco's eyes flew open and he sprang into a sitting position, his head spinning due to his quick movement. He quickly surveyed his surroundings and found himself sitting on top of the blankets of a single bed. The room was small; its walls covered in lavender wallpaper, the rest of the room coordinating with it. He didn't know this room at all. He didn't know this house. But what worried him the most was that Hermione wasn't there. He was alone.

Draco leapt from the bed and stumbled forward as pain shot through his left foot and up his leg. He steadied himself against the doorframe and pulled the door handle. It was locked. _Of course it's locked. Who trusts you?_

"Let me out! Let me out! Hermione? Someone let me out!" Draco slapped the door repeatedly with his open palm, becoming more and more desperate each second.

"Malfoy, calm down," a stern, irritated voice admonished from the other side of the door.

"Who are you? Let me out!" Draco demanded.

"I'm Ginny Weasley and you need to calm down first," she said flatly.

"Calm down? I'll calm down when I'm not locked up anymore! Where's Hermione? Let me out!" Draco jerked the handle angrily.

"Lupin, he's freaking out," Ginny said in her continued calm voice.

"Lupin? Lupin, let me out!" Draco shouted, slapping the door again. "Let me out!"

"Draco, if you want out of there, you're going to have to calm down," Lupin responded firmly. Draco clenched his fists at his sides, still seething but trying desperately to compose himself. "Alright Draco, I'm going to open this door, but you're going to have to stay calm."

Draco stepped to the side as the door opened, revealing his old professor and a saucy-looking redhead. Draco was unexpectedly distracted and uncomfortable as the red-haired girl scrupulously surveyed him. It was as though she were trying to see straight into him. Only once had he felt searched like that and it was by his old Headmaster and he was as uncomfortable now as he was then. He quickly shook the thought and turned to Lupin whose expression simply looked stern.

"Where is she? Where's Hermione? HERMIONE?" He shouted her name through the house, hoping she might answer. But he knew that she wouldn't. If she had the ability to speak, she'd be with him. He knew it.

"Draco, you're not calm. You must control yourself," Lupin persisted, his hands out in front of him as though this may soothe Draco in some way.

"Don't patronize me! Just tell me where she is!" Draco demanded.

Ginny bit her lip and nervously made a quick glance down the hall. Her glance was an unintentional answer. Draco knew Hermione had to be in that direction. He shoved through the two bodies without a word and jogged down the hall, his foot splintering with each step.

"Draco, stop!" Lupin commanded.

Only two doors down was a room that was overflowing with redheads. He had no doubt it was the room he wanted. Without a word, he pushed through the crowd. And there she was. Hermione lay motionless on a single bed under soft pink floral blankets. A Healer stood at her side with his wand pointed at her.

"Don't touch her!" Draco yelled, shoving the man's wand to the side.

"Malfoy!" A man cried his name and he turned to look at the group at the door. There were three ginger-haired men, two of them identical, with their wands pointed directly at him. The woman next to them, presumably their mother, simply scowled. The group was soon joined by Lupin in the back, Ginny pushing her way in front of her mother, her own wand drawn. The Healer tried to ignore the conflict and turned back to his patient.

"I said, 'don't touch her'!" Draco barked, ripping the wand from the old man's hand. The man quickly backed away.

"Draco! Stop this!" Lupin insisted. Draco turned his attention back to the group at the door and backed closer to Hermione's bed, the wand raised in defense.

"Malf- _Draco_, calm down," Ginny ordered. "He's just trying to heal her."

"No! No one touches her!" he roared.

"_Stupefy!_"

"_Protego!_" Draco was able to shield himself just in time to protect himself from the stunning spell shot by one of the twins.

"Stop it!" Ginny shouted. "Can't you see he's scared?"

Ginny's outburst stunned the others. "And he should be," said Fred.

"Get away from her, Malfoy," Charlie ordered.

"No," Draco responded, chancing a glance at Hermione.

"Draco, we just want to help her. We're not going to hurt her," Lupin said calmly.

"'Cause you're not going to touch her," Draco repeated brusquely.

Ginny saw a movement at her side. "Lower your wands!" she commanded her brothers. The three of them looked at her like she had grown another head. "I mean it! Lower your wands! He's not going to hurt her. Look how scared he is!" Draco stood near the head of Hermione's bed, his arms stiff at his sides, his brow creased with fear, a great frown deepening the lines of his face. The boys grudgingly complied, but still firmly gripped their wands at their sides.

"Draco, I know you're worried about her, but we all are. We only want to help her _and_you," Lupin continued in his annoyingly pacifying tone. "She trusts us, Draco."

"She trusts _me!_ I'll help her. _I'll_heal her. But no one else touches her." Draco's tone was part insistence and part pleading.

"Never will there be a day I trust a Malfoy," Fred declared.

"Fine. I'm not a Malfoy! I'm not a Death Eater! I'm no one! I just want to help her," Draco earnestly proclaimed.

"He's gone mental!" George piped, looking at Draco with a confused disgust.

"I trust him," Ginny said simply, earning every eye in the room on her.

"Ginny, Death Eaters don't change their Marks. You can't-" Charlie explained as though to a small child.

"Can't they?" Draco growled, thrusting his left arm out for all to see. The flesh on the inside of his forearm, where the Dark Mark was once branded, was covered in a wet angry burn, the scarring skin forming in swirling patterns.

"He's not one of them. Can't you see that? Look at him for Merlin's sake!" Ginny ordered as she gestured wildly. "He's covered head to toe in blood. Look at his cuts! He's not one of them."

"Cuts or not, Mark or not, he was a Death Eater and I am not about to just trust him," Fred declared, two nods beside him agreeing to his words.

"Draco, I _want_to trust you, but you have to understand that we can't just leave you alone with her," Lupin said simply. "What if we compromise and let you stay in the room with one of us while the Healer-?"

"No! Not the Healer! He doesn't touch her! No one touches her!" Draco warned again, the wand shaking in his hand. His outburst caused the three red-haired men to lift their wands again.

"Wands down!" Ginny flared. "That means you too, Draco. If you want us to trust you, you have to show us we can."

Draco looked into Ginny's blue eyes. She was trying to help him. A piece of her understood. Draco lowered the wand, flipped it in his fingers, and extended it to the Healer. The old man snatched it away and moodily pushed through the group and into the hall.

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to help Hermione," Draco said calmly.

"Then let us help her," Lupin pleaded.

Draco gently shook his head. "I can't let you touch her. I promised her. You'll just hurt her if you do."

"Draco, we're not going to hurt her," Lupin repeated.

Ginny took a small step forward. "Draco... Do you know something about her that we don't? Will she be hurt if we touch her?" Ginny chanced gently.

Draco gave a small vigorous nod, his lip quivering.

"Draco, you have to make a compromise with us," Lupin explained. "You have to see this from our side. No matter who you are now, you were once a Death Eater. I trust you, but not enough to just leave you here alone with her."

"Then you try to see it from my side, too!" Draco ordered. "I've been with her every minute for the last couple weeks. The only times I wasn't with her were the worst times imaginable. I was with her there when she cried herself to sleep thinking that you all gave up on her! I'm not leaving her and I won't let anyone touch her."

"Draco..." Ginny started sadly.

"Fine! If you don't trust me alone with her, then let _her_stay with me," Draco bargained, pointing at Ginny.

"Like hell we'll leave her with you!" Charlie bellowed.

"He _has_fucking lost it," Fred agreed with George's earlier statement.

"You said to compromise. I did!" Draco growled in frustration.

"Let me stay instead of her," Lupin offered.

"No. _Her._"

"We're not going to leave our little sister with some-"

"I'll do it," Ginny interrupted softly.

"No, you won't!" the three men shouted in unison.

"Absolutely not!" Mrs. Weasley spoke for the first time, surprising everyone.

"I'm not asking for permission," Ginny said heatedly. "He's made a compromise and I accept."

"Ginny, he's-"

"He's worried about her. She trusts him. _I_trust him," she defended.

"Well I don't. Not with you," Mrs. Weasley said firmly. "What if he were to-"

"I have a wand. He's wandless. I think I could handle a situation," Ginny said in a snippy voice, punctuating each fact.

All the redheads looked ready to argue further when Lupin cut them off. "It is not an unreasonable request. Hermione trusts him and so do I. And it's seems as though Draco may know something that we don't. I feel that it is riskier not to let him. And it is obvious that Draco feels he can trust Ginny. Ginny is more than capable with a wand. The longer we stand around arguing, the longer Hermione suffers." Lupin's statement was so firm that it was understood by all that it was the final decision and not to be challenged. "Everyone out." Fred, George and Charlie glared at Draco as they were ushered from the room.

"I will not leave my daughter here with him, Remus!" Mrs. Weasley hissed.

"I'm not asking," Ginny replied. "I'll be fine and I'll make sure Hermione is, too."

"I wouldn't allow this, Molly, if I were concerned. I really do trust him. Hermione trusts him. You should have heard the way she spoke of him. If you don't trust him, trust Hermione." Lupin spoke softly again, "Come now. Why don't you ready her some food? You know she'll be starving when she wakes." Lupin escorted her from the room but turned one last time to Ginny. "I do trust him, but that doesn't mean you should drop your guard."

Ginny nodded and closed and locked the door.

* * *

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	14. Healing

As soon as the door was locked, Draco gave a curt nod to Ginny and pulled a small stool up to the side of Hermione's bed. Draco picked up Hermione's hand and brushed the top of it with his thumb. After taking a deep breath, he replaced her hand on the bed and picked up the healer's bag. His hands trembled as he picked up and examined the bottles inside.

"So are you going to explain?" Ginny asked, walking up beside him.

"Explain what?" Draco asked without looking up.

"Why we can't touch her," Ginny pressed irritably.

Draco placed a small jar on the bedside table and continued digging through the bag, ignoring Ginny's question. The crease in Ginny's brow deepened as she realized Draco had no intention to answer her. Draco placed another, slightly bigger jar onto the nightstand. Ginny stared sadly at the girl in the bed. She looked so pale and fragile. Feeling more irritated, she looked back at Draco. Hermione trusted him. Lupin had told her just how desperately she tried to convey her loyalty to him. After seeing how possessive and frightened Draco was for her, she couldn't help but trust him too, but after the others left the room Draco's features returned to the cold stone-like demeanor that she'd always known and she was beginning to worry. He looked so intense.

"Would you stop looking at me like that?" Draco grumbled without looking up. He didn't need to look at Ginny to know that she was watching him again with that intense calculating stare.

"Then answer my question," Ginny demanded. "What did they do to her that we can't touch her?"

Draco paused as he poured a bit of potion into a small shot glass. Only after replacing the stopper in the bottle did he answer her. "I never said you can't touch her. I said I wouldn't let you," Draco corrected.

"What?!" Ginny shouted in outrage. "I asked if you knew something we didn't. I asked if it would hurt her if we touched her and you said-"

"And it would hurt her. In ways you wouldn't understand," Draco answered heatedly, looking up to the set of blazing blue eyes. He was upset at the insinuation that he was lying, but he stayed calm, his eyes stern. He glanced at Hermione and his face softened, his eyes becoming sad. "I promised her that I'd protect her any way that I could. It-it would hurt her for people to see her like this. She didn't want anyone to see what she's suffered…" Draco's voice drifted with his eyes. Ginny's anger ebbed away as he spoke, the sadness in his voice leaving her no doubt of the sincerity of his words.

"I'm sorry…" Ginny said quietly.

Draco shook his head sadly, dismissing her apology. He understood her distrust. In fact, he was impressed by her ability to trust him as much as she did. He wasn't sure that if he were in her place that he would have allowed him in the house at all. Pushing these thoughts aside, he picked up the tiny glass of potion and gently brushed his hand over Hermione's cheek.

"Draco…" Hermione mumbled almost inaudibly.

"Hermione?" Draco asked in surprise. "Hermione?"

Draco and Ginny stared at her intensely waiting for a response, but none came. "I-I think she's still sleeping…" Ginny said quietly.

"Hermione, It's Draco," he said softly. "I'm going to heal you now. I'm going to give you this potion. I need you to drink it…" After waiting another few seconds for a response that didn't come, Draco tilted Hermione's head up and poured the potion into her slightly parted lips.

"What is that?" Ginny asked.

"It's for broken bones," Draco answered. Draco gently stroked a finger over Hermione's throat, coaxing her to swallow the potion.

"They…?" Ginny started.

"I'm not sure anything is broken, but I'm concerned that she might possibly have a small fracture in her skull. Her ribs have also been tender. It can't hurt," Draco explained. He was about to place the bottle back in the bag, but in a small afterthought, he uncorked the bottle and took a gulp of it himself before returning it to the bag. Draco picked up the small jar from the table and looked down at it in thought. He closed his eyes and sighed before turning to Ginny. "Will-will you stun her?"

"What?!" She asked incredulously.

Draco sighed again and rubbed his face. He knew this was the response he would receive. "This will hurt and I don't want her to feel it. I could give her a sleeping draught, but I'm afraid she still might wake. We'll revive her as soon as we're done. It won't hurt her."

Ginny bit her lip. She knew it wouldn't hurt, but it still felt wrong to stun her friend, especially in the state she was in. "_Stupefy,_" Ginny muttered. She was relieved when Hermione's body showed no change. She still looked as though she were peacefully sleeping.

"Thank you," Draco said quietly. Now he could finally get started. He pulled the floral blanket down to Hermione's waist and reached a hand up the slate blue jumper, pulling Hermione's arms out of the sleeves and gently tugging it over her head. Ginny gasped as soon as the shirt was pulled away. She had imagined that Hermione must have been injured, especially with the state she was in when Lupin arrived with her, but this was beyond what she had imagined. Hermione's body was much thinner than before, her ribs now visible beneath her severely bruised skin. Bruises, varying in intensity and age, were scattered over her chest and arms. Ginny's eyes followed the long gash from Hermione's collar bone down to where it vanished beneath the waist of the black cotton boxers on her side. Draco's hand interrupted Ginny's evaluation as he began slathering a violet pulpy ointment down the large cut. Both Draco and Ginny cringed with sympathy pain as they heard the mixture sizzle in the wound.

"It will clean it and begin to cauterize it so it won't bleed anymore before I can seal it," Draco explained.

"I know," Ginny replied quietly. Ginny's brows furrowed as she looked over the top of Draco's arm. There on Hermione's right breast was an unmistakable bite mark, and an identical one of her left shoulder. Ginny's heart pounded as realization washed over her. "They raped her…" she breathed.

Draco looked up at Ginny miserably then back down at Hermione, saying nothing as he returned to his work, pasting liberal amounts of ointment over each small cut he found. Draco, feeling he got everything, pulled back in his seat to examine her, the fingers on his right hand dripping with purple ointment, while he held the jar in his left.

"I think you got it," Ginny assured. "But you might want to…" Ginny gestured towards Draco's chest. Draco gave a tiny snort of amusement. He could only imagine how terrible he looked just then. There was barely an inch of his chest that wasn't covered in dried blood. Which parts were his blood and which parts were Hermione's, he didn't know. Draco took one last scoop of ointment and put some on his chest and neck. As soon as he did he hissed in pain as it stung and bubbled in his open wounds. Draco gritted his teeth and breathed slowly as he screwed the cap back on. Gradually the pain subsided and he turned to Ginny again.

"You know I'm going to need your wand," Draco said. They both knew he would, from the moment she accepted, she knew she would have to give it to him. And it was lucky for Draco that no one else seemed to think of this issue.

"I know." Ginny pressed her lips together and reluctantly relinquished her wand. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. In fact, in the last few minutes she came to trust him much more than she ever thought she could, but lending her wand to anyone was uncomfortable. Wizards and witches could become very emotionally attached to their wands and it hurt to allow another person to use it. Ginny shook her thoughts. This was for Hermione.

Draco nodded in appreciation and quietly began uttering healing spells under his breath, tracing the wand over the cuts that were covered in the drying purple ointment. Draco concentrated extra hard as he healed the large gash, the skin pulling itself together and sealing itself, leaving pink scar in its place. Draco frowned. He had hoped that the scar would be lighter, more faint. But it had been open too long and would forever bear a scar as a reminder.

Draco grabbed the edges of the blanket again, but stopped and looked seriously at Ginny. "You know that I won't... violate her, right?" He asked tentatively. He almost sounded as if he were pleading that she believed him incapable of such a thing.

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have given you my wand," Ginny pointed out, hoping that her actions would speak louder than her words.

Draco nodded and pulled the blanket off of Hermione's legs. Ginny gasped and covered her mouth in horror as she saw the dried blood smeared on the insides of Hermione's thighs. Ginny had already understood Draco's insistence to not let the others see her in such a state, but now she felt indecent herself to see the extent of her suffering.

"It's not from rape or something like that," Draco said quickly, but still softly. It was the first time he had used the word 'rape' to describe what happened to Hermione. He knew it was what had taken place, but he could never bring himself to say it. "At least that's what she said. It's just a cut on the inside of one of her thighs. When she moves, it smears..." Draco's voice kept getting softer. He didn't feel comfortable explaining any of this.

Draco swallowed hard and slowly removed the boxer shorts from her body. He knew that Hermione trusted him, and Ginny agreed that she did also, but Draco couldn't help but feel indecent in exposing her. It was uncomfortable enough working on her upper half, but at least then she was still partially covered. But now, in her nudity, she look more vulnerable than ever. Draco turned his eyes from her and took a deep breath. _This is not wrong. I'm only healing her._ Draco removed the lid again from the purple ointment, pulled back one of Hermione's legs and quickly spread the pulpy substance over wound. Draco glanced at the short brown curls at the apex of her thighs, then looked up at Ginny.

"Can you heal?" He asked hopefully. Ginny just shook her head, her eyebrows furrowed. "I'm...I'm just going to check..." Draco swallowed hard and spread Hermione legs. Slowly he spread her labia and examined her very briefly before pulling away and closing her legs. "You... um... she... I don't think it's serious..."

Ginny nodded solemnly. "She looks like she's alright," Ginny agreed uncomfortably. "If it hurts, I'm sure she'll let someone help."

Draco nodded. "Please don't tell anyone that-that..."

"I won't," Ginny said seriously. She could only imagine the reactions that her bothers or Harry might have if they knew how intimate Draco was in healing Hermione. Each scenario she imagined resulted in severe damage done to Malfoy. And he really didn't deserve it. Never had she imagined he could be so gentle and caring. Draco grabbed the last jar from the nightstand and began rubbing a creamy butter-like lotion into the many bruises covering Hermione's body, starting from the bottom up, covering her with the blanket as he went. Draco pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and lightly massaged the lotion on her neck and forehead. He set the container down and looked at the left over lotion on his hand. Not wanting to waste it, he gladly rubbed it onto his face where Lestrange had kicked him just hours ago. Just the few light brushes of cream started numbing the swollen tissue immediately. He could actually feel its progress as it completely healed in less than thirty seconds.

"Well," Draco said. "I think that's about all I can do." Ginny nodded and Draco picked up Ginny's wand from the bedside table. He looked hopefully at Hermione's pale face as he pointed the wand at her. "_Rennervate._"

* * *

**I'm sorry that I missed posting yesterday. Sometimes it's just not possible to post every single day. But I'm able to post two chapters today, so I hope that makes up for it. ^^**

**I know this chapter's a little slow, but I felt it necessary. I hope you liked it.**

**Please review.**


	15. Reacquainted

As soon as Draco cast the reviving spell, Hermione drew a deep breath.

"Hermione?" Draco said softly. "Can you open your eyes?"

Hermione's eyes slowly fluttered open and a small smile crossed her lips as she stared up into a glistening pair concerned grey eyes. "Draco..."

A warm smile grew on Draco's face and he gently stroked her cheek. "We made it. You're safe..." Hermione just stared up at him, her deep affection for him clearly visible in her eyes. Ginny stared at the pale chiseled face of the boy that, until just a few hours ago, she believed was an enemy, filled with wonder and appreciation for the way he looked at Hermione. Never had she imagined that his cold stony features could look so tender and warm. He truly cared for her. "How do you feel?" he asked, running a hand over her dirty frizzled hair.

Hermione arched her back at little as she considered the question. She brought a hand to her chest and a great smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Good," she answered, a little surprised.

Draco's smile faded back to concern. "I'll accept the answer 'better,' but 'good' makes me think that you're lying to me."

"Good is a relative term. And if we're speaking relatively, I feel _fantastic_." Hermione chuckled and Draco's smile returned.

A small chuckle behind Draco, startled Hermione. She peered to the side and finally took notice of the red-haired girl in the room. "Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, absolutely glowing at the sight of her friend. At Hermione's greeting, Ginny took a step closer, returning her smile, her eyes brimming with tears. "You have no idea how good it is to see you!"

"I think I have an idea," Ginny admitted. "You have no idea how worried we've all been for you. I was so afraid that... I'm so glad you're okay!" Hermione's eyes glistened with tears of mirth. One single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek and both girls completely broke down. Hermione took a steadying breath and picked herself up into a sitting position. Upon noticing her nudity, she quickly pulled the blanket up to cover herself. Draco politely turned his head and Hermione chuckled at him.

"It's okay. I'm covered," she assured. Draco looked on her with a quiet, mild expression, his smile soft with a sedated satisfaction.

Hermione took a second to look around the room. "Where are we?" Draco snorted a chuckle, shrugged his shoulders, and looked up at Ginny.

"We're at Great Aunt Muriel's house. The family has been staying here for months now. As soon as we received your message, this kind of became a temporary headquarters, members of the Order in and out of here. They were already planning on coming for you tonight, but when the signal at The Burrow went off…" Ginny paused, thinking back on the horrible memory. "You have no idea how scared everyone was, and when we heard the signal… we were so afraid we were too late…" Ginny's tears returned, but this time filled with a sad sort of relief. The three of them looked down, all suddenly finding their hands of great interest, fidgeting uncomfortably. The truth was, both Draco and Hermione were very close to losing their lives that night.

Draco forced the thoughts from his mind. It was over. They were safe now. There was no reason to keep thinking about what might have happened. "What-What day is it?"

At Draco's question, Hermione looked up with interest. "Friday," Ginny answered simply. One look at the two of them made her feel extremely foolish. "Sorry, it's the first of May."

Hermione gasped with shock. She knew it had been a few weeks but by her count, she had guessed two weeks. But if Ginny was not mistaken Hermione had been missing for just over three weeks. One look at Draco showed that he too was surprised.

"Are Harry and Ron here?" Hermione asked. She was desperately hoping to see them, but she was almost certain they were not there. There would be no way that they would allow themselves to be pulled from her room, and Draco would never have been allowed in the house, let alone her room.

"No," Ginny replied mournfully. "As soon as you went missing we received a message from them from Shell Cottage. When we were certain you were captured, the Order immediately began discussing where you might be. There were several places they were considering. Malfoy Manor was one of them, but there were so many wards around it and the other places that they were considering that they couldn't take chances. We were certain that something would be mentioned about you, because, you know, you've been wanted for arrest. The Order stormed the two places that they thought most likely, but obviously you weren't there. Anyway, Harry and Ron were here when they were planning at first, but they really couldn't be much help because Undesirable Number 1 and his sidekick couldn't exactly mingle undercover. So Dad, Tonks, and Lupin talked them into continuing Dumbledore's Task with the promise that they would be informed the minute you were found." Ginny paused and looked down at her hands again. "We messaged them as soon as you got here. They touched their rings, so they got the message," Ginny said, fidgeting with the silver ring on her right hand, her Order ring. "But they didn't respond…" Hermione's head bowed with concern, another uncomfortable silence falling over them.

"I'm sure they're alright," Draco assured softly. "They touched their rings. And we'd have known if they were caught. It wouldn't be a secret. And even if it were, we were in the death eaters' headquarters. They questioned you just today. And there wasn't time this evening, they were all preoccupied with the breech," Draco logically deduced. This was exactly what the two girls needed. Not just a comforting pat on the back and empty words, but true logical assurance. "But we've gotten far off topic," Draco said finally. Hermione and Ginny both looked confused as they tried to remember where their conversation had started. "_Really_, how are you feeling?" Draco asked, staring Hermione straight in the eye.

Hermione let out a small chuckle. "I told you, I'm-"

"We're _not _speaking relatively. I'm your _healer_ and I want a list of complaints," Draco said in an absolutely serious voice.

Hermione still smiled. "I'm still really weak and a bit achy… and really hungry, but other than that, I swear, I feel just fine."

"Well, I'm sure you don't have to worry about your last complaint much longer. Mum's probably in the kitchen right now loading the fullest plates you'll ever set eyes on," Ginny assured.

"And I know just how to help the first two complaints." Draco reached back into the healer's bag and pulled out a small bottle. Picking up the shot glass again, he poured the steaming potion into it.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, eyeing the potion nervously. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, but the look of the potion appeared as though it wouldn't feel or taste very pleasant going down.

"It's just an Invigoration Draught. I'm not giving you much, just enough to get some of your strength back. I don't want it to keep you up. You do need some rest." Draco handed her the glass and turned to Ginny. "Is there a bath she could use?"

"Yeah, right here actually," Ginny said, gesturing to a door at the foot of Hermione's bed.

"What do you say you drink that potion and have that bubble bath you've been dreaming of?" Draco suggested.

"That sounds amazing," Hermione smiled.

"I'll go run a bath then," Ginny smiled brightly and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

"You look so much better already," Draco said with a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear. Hermione drank the potion and handed Draco the cup. He set it on the nightstand with a smile as she scrunched her nose at the bitter taste of it.

"I'm feeling much better. What about-?" Hermione stopped mid-sentence and stared at Draco with concern. "You haven't been healed yet?!" she demanded, reaching out and touching the dried purple ointment near the open wound on Draco's chest. Here she'd been sitting and chatting happily with him not even realizing the he was still unhealed and in pain.

Draco smiled warmly at her concern. "One step at a time. I had to make sure you were alright first," he explained. "I've gotten started though. My foot's healed," he said, wiggling his toes. "And my cuts have been cleaned."

Hermione said nothing, just looking at him with continued concern, pained by her belief that it was only because of her that he was still hurting.

"I'm telling you, I'm getting there. I'll be completely healed by the time you're half done with your bath," Draco assured.

"Which is all set," Ginny announced as she reentered the room. "I hope it's not too hot, you can always cool it down if it is."

"Unless it's boiling, it will be perfect," Hermione said.

"Okay, well I'll go and get you some towels and some clothes. I'll be back in a few minutes," Ginny said, giving Hermione another smile before leaving the room. It was unexplainable how good it felt to see her again.

"I've never anticipated a bath so much," Hermione stated.

"Then what are you waiting for? I'd have been in there before she could finish her sentence if I were you," Draco chuckled getting to his feet.

"You can be next then," Hermione replied. "Unless you're reverting back to that stubborn puppy act that you had as a kid."

"No, You're lucky I hadn't called it before you. Never had I needed one so badly," he laughed looking down at the dried blood that was caked over most of his body. "And meaning no offense, neither have you. So get in there before the water gets cool." Draco walked over the single bed opposite Hermione's, politely looking away as she walked to the bathroom. As soon as he heard the door close, he grabbed Ginny's wand and the yellow bruise ointment and set to work on healing himself.

* * *

"Ginny?! What are you doing?" Charlie's voice boomed in the hallway.

Ginny turned around, her arms piled with clothes and towels. "I'm just grabbing-"

"Where's Draco?! Where's Hermione?!" Charlie barked.

"Relax. They're in the room, but Draco's-" Ginny started, a little annoyed with her older brother's tone.

"You left him there with her?! And where's your wand?!" Charlie demanded, looking at the empty pocket that usually held her wand.

"I'm trying to tell you, Draco is-"

"_Damn it_, Ginny!!!" Charlie shouted, shoving Ginny against the wall as he tore down the hall at a run. Charlie threw the door open with such force that it hit the wardrobe behind it. Draco had heard the exchange and was on his feet, his hands out defensively, offering the handle of Ginny's wand to Charlie. Ginny entered just after Charlie and watched him rip the wand out of Draco's hand.

"I didn't do anything…" Draco said calmly but with a tiny bite of defiance. "I just healed myself and Hermione…"

"Where is she?!" Charlie growled.

"Taking a bath," Draco said, nodding toward the bathroom door with his hands still held out defensively.

Charlie stared at the door as if he were ready to burst in to check on her, stopped only by the concern that Draco might actually be telling the truth, in which case she would be nude.

"For Merlin's sake, Charlie," Ginny grumbled, walking towards Draco and plopping the pile of clothes onto the bed next to him. "If I was concerned at all I wouldn't have left him here, let alone with my wand." Ginny turned to her brother with an exasperated expression. "You didn't see him or hear him. He did exactly what he said he would and Hermione's doing just fine."

Charlie kept looking at the door, his wand still pointed at Draco.

"For Merlin's sake!" Ginny cried. She sorted through the items on the bed and looked up at Draco. "I brought you a towel and clothes as well. I figure you're about the same size as Fred and George so I brought you a pair of their boxers and pajamas," At this she turned to Charlie. "And I'll bring Hermione her towel and my pajamas and make sure Draco hasn't slaughtered her in the five minutes I've been gone." Ginny crossed the room, brushing past Charlie as she went, and knocked on the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" Hermione answered.

"Incredible. You're alive," Ginny turned and lifted her eyebrows at Charlie is if to say 'see'.

"What?" Hermione asked in utter confusion.

"Nothing. I just came to bring you a towel and some clothes," Ginny answered. She cracked the door open and placed the articles on the corner of the sink. "They might be a bit big for you now… but they're the best I could do."

"Thanks. I'm just about done," Hermione said.

"Good. I would say to take your time, but I might need your help protecting Draco from my brothers," Ginny said bitterly.

"What?!" Hermione demanded. Charlie and Draco heard the water slosh and assumed that Hermione must have stood up suddenly.

"Ginny, don't scare her like that," Draco insisted. Ginny was just playing around but she had no idea just what affect those words had on Hermione. The word 'protect' had a whole new meaning to her now.

"I didn't mean…" Ginny started. "They haven't done anything. I was just saying… You really don't need to hurry like that. They're not really going to hurt him…" _I don't think…_ "I'll just be out here."

Ginny walked back into the bedroom to find the two men in the exact same position she left them in, both glaring at her.

"Ginny! Ginny!" the twins shouted, bursting through the open bedroom door. Both of them stopped suddenly and looked from Charlie to Draco and pulled out their wands, pointing them at the pale blonde's blood smeared chest. "What'd he do?!"

Ginny sighed in agitation. "He didn't do _anything_. He healed Hermione and himself and he was just in here minded his business."

"So we're just doing this for fun then?" George asked as though he had no qualms with the idea.

Charlie sighed and lowered his wand. "No." The twins followed suit, seeming unconcerned.

"So what were you shouting about?" Ginny asked.

"Our Galleons!" Fred said excitedly.

Ginny sighed again and covered her eyes. She always thought her brothers were foolish, all of them but Bill, but today they were wearing on her. "Is this really the time to be discussing your finances?"

They laughed aloud and George continued. "Not ours,"

"Hermione's!" Fred finished.

"What?" All heads turned at the sound of Hermione's voice. She stood in the bathroom doorway in a pair of soft lavender pajamas that hung loosely on her thin body. Her dark wet curls hung heavy behind her shoulders and the hot water had tinted her cheeks with a healthy pink glow. Conversation stopped as they all appraised her with soft smiles. She still had a long way to go, but she was looking much better already. "We're discussing my finances?" she said in confusion.

Fred and George laughed again. "Not your _finances_," Fred chuckled.

"Your _Galleons_," George corrected, holding up a gold coin.

"The D.A. Galleons?" Hermione asked.

"Neville?!" Ginny cried. "What does it say?!"

"It says we better get our arses moving or we're going to miss the action," Fred said with a wicked grin. Ginny snatched the coin from George and began examining it closely.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked anxiously, taking a step closer to the group.

"It says 'Harry's here, We're going to fight.'" Ginny stated.

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. "They did it…" she breathed to herself.

"Did what?" Charlie asked.

"They finished Dumbledore's task. They must've," Hermione said. "Harry wouldn't agree to fight unless he knew he could end it. If this is right… then Harry's going to challenge You-know-who."

"Well what the hell are we waiting for!?" Fred cried.

"Let's get our arses over there!" George agreed.

"It's says to go to Hog's Head. Let's go, Gin," Fred said, offering his arm to Ginny so he could take her using Side-Along Apparition. Ginny grabbed his arm and they were ready to leave when Hermione startled them.

"Wait!" she cried, sticking her arm out to Charlie. "I don't have a wand…"

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed. "Hermione… You're not going…" he said as though this were obvious.

"Of course I'm going!" Hermione insisted. "This could be the last battle. Harry may need me. I can't just-"

"Hermione, you're just too weak," George said softly.

"And how strong does one need to be to flick a wand?" Hermione protested.

"Which you just pointed out that you don't have…" Fred said sadly. He really did feel bad that she had to stay behind, but it was unavoidable.

"But even if you did," continued Charlie, just incase she managed to get her hands on one. "You are too weak. Everyone's rather protective of you right now. We'd all be too worried about you being there to fight as we should. You'd be a liability."

Hermione looked away, her face stony and defiant to mask her bitter hurt feelings.

"But _I _wouldn't be," Draco said, taking a step forward. "I'll take the wand of the first disarmed death eater. I'll fight."

"For what side?" George demanded

"Sod off," Fred spoke at the same time as George but both were heard quite clearly.

Ginny answered before Draco could. "You know I trust you, Draco. And I have no doubts you'd fight for our side, but other than the death eaters I'm about the only one who really knows and believes that. You'd be attacked by both sides. You wouldn't last a minute. Just stay and look after Hermione." Draco nodded grudgingly.

"Let's go already," Fred insisted.

"Wait, what about Mum and the Order?" George asked.

"You know Mum won't let us go," Ginny said simply. "Draco, pass on the message."

Draco nodded and before he could blink, the four Weasleys were gone.

* * *

**Yay! Things are going right. I like the way Ginny's turned out in this story. I never really know just how the characters will respond until I start writing.**

**Please Please Review. It means so much to me. ^^**


	16. Alone Again

**I should have warned before now, but I assumed that everyone had read Deathly Hallows. This has serious Deathly Hallows spoilers! Do not read anymore if you have not finished the Harry Potter series! That is all.**

* * *

Hermione stared longingly at the place her four friends stood just a moment ago. They were off to fight what might be the last battle of the war. She was excited by the thought that Voldemort might soon be defeated, but terrified for the safety for her friends. She assumed that Harry was prepared to face Voldemort, but only based on her belief that Harry would not chance such an encounter unless he was confident of victory. But she had not seen him for weeks. It was very possible that he believed her dead. She could not deny the nagging memories of the many times Harry had rushed into a fight unprepared. But he had matured. He knew what he had to do. He wouldn't jeopardize the future of the entire wizarding world just because he was frustrated and angry, right? She didn't know what he felt or thought. It'd been weeks since she was with him. Never had she wanted to be by his side more than at that moment. The only thing that kept her there at that moment were Charlie's words. She was a liability if she were there. If she were in any of their places, she would protest even harder than they had. And then there was Draco. If she left, she was certain he would come too, and it would certainly be to his death. They'd struggled too hard for survival to rush to their own defeat now.

Hermione looked up at the pale pointed face of the only boy left in the room. Draco too had been staring at the empty place that the four Weasley children had been, looking just as frustrated as she felt. Draco looked up at her and his cold expression softened to a small mirthless smile.

"I know," Hermione said sympathetically. "I don't like being left behind either."

"They need us," Draco insisted. His frustration and anger were still very evident, but he kept himself calm for Hermione's sake. "They need everyone they can get, and I know so many of their weaknesses. Not to mention, if anyone of them attacks me near Bellatrix and she doesn't do anything to help me then she just drops dead from her vow. That alone is worth the trip."

"Draco…"

"All of my enemies are there. I owe them!" Draco growled.

"All of my _friends_ are there… I owe them," Hermione said sadly.

"So do I," Draco grumbled.

"I better go tell-," Hermione started.

"No," Draco stopped his rant, softening again and put out a hand to stop Hermione from leaving. "I'll go tell Lupin and the Order. You rest."

"Draco," Hermione's brow furrowed in agitation. "I'm perfectly capable of-"

"I know you are," Draco interrupted. "Of course you are. And I'm sorry that I'm treating you like you're weak and fragile. That's not what I think of you at all. It's just, Ginny asked _me…_ and somehow it just means something to me. Would you let me?"

Hermione's frustration faded instantly into a soft smile and she brushed a few stray strands of oily grimy blonde hair out of Draco's eyes. As filthy as he was, she still found him to be one of the most beautiful people she'd ever known. She wished she had noticed it earlier. "Of course. Hurry though."

Draco nodded, his expression void of all but cold determination, before turning to the door. He turned left immediately, knowing that it was the direction everyone kept coming from. The hallway led him down a flight of stairs. Draco stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked both right and left, quickly deciding upon the right as this part of the hall was lit with many candles along the wall. Continuing to follow the candle lit path, Draco found himself standing outside a swinging door that could only be assumed to belong to the kitchen. Draco took a deep breath and slowly pushed it open.

Draco's eyes took in the large empty kitchen. The large table in the center had a few scrolls of parchment and some ink and quills. He gasped when he realized that the kitchen was not as empty as he originally thought. In the far corner, a slightly short plump witch with red hair, beginning to grey with age, stood silently working over a lit stove.

"M-Mrs. Weasley…?" Draco tested quietly.

The sound of his voice startled her and she turned around quickly, her hand on her bosom in her surprise. "Malfoy," she said flatly. Her hand began to slide down to her apron pocket where, no doubt, she stored her wand.

Draco extended his hands defensively. "I'm not going to do anything," Draco assured. He was not used to having to be so defensive. In the past he would never had had the patience to take a defensive position. He'd always been too proud. But he wanted them to trust him so he would do what he had to to earn it. "I just have a message."

Mrs. Weasley turned her head to another swinging door at Draco's right, but never took her eyes off of him. "Arthur! Remus!"

Draco sighed. He decided that he had been extremely naïve to believe that his message would be received without complication. Perhaps Hermione should have been the one. But then they would be angry at him for allowing her out of bed.

"What is it, Molly?" Mr. Weasley asked anxiously as he entered the room, Lupin right behind him. "Draco!" Mr. Weasley's wand instantly fell on the irritated blonde boy.

"Draco?" Lupin asked with urgent concern. "What's wrong?! Is Hermione-?"

"Hermione's fine. She's in the bedroom," Draco said quickly, making sure his empty hands were still plainly visible. "I'm just here to relay a message."

"A message from whom?" Mr. Weasley quickly demanded.

"Uh… _all_ of 'em…" Draco said pathetically.

"All of _who_?" Lupin insisted.

"Er, the Weasleys," Draco answered lamely. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to have answered that one. He knew Ginny well enough and was pretty certain he remembered the twins' names, but he never knew the older one. He quickly looked between the faces in the room, each one of them thoroughly confused. It was then that Draco realized that they had been expecting a message given by him to be from death eaters. Rather than waste more time on explaining just who the message was from, Draco decided to go ahead with the message. "Potter finished the task. There's a fight at Hogwarts. Potter's going to challenge the dark lord…" Draco stopped, allowing time for a reaction so he wouldn't have to repeat too much, as he was rather certain the response to that announcement would be 'What?'.

"What?!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.

"Who told you this, Draco?" Lupin demanded.

"Um, er… the twins and Ginny were discussing it. She told me to tell you," Draco explained.

"Ginny! Fred! George!" Mrs. Weasley shouted through the house. Draco winced at the surprising volume that issued from the small woman.

"Th-they're not here," Draco said, still internally cringing, hoping that the woman would not yell again.

"Where are they?!" Lupin was looking more and more anxious and possessed each time he spoke.

"Once they got the message, they left. They said they were apparating to the Hog's Head. They were going to Hogwarts from there," Draco relayed.

"There are caterwauling charms in Hogsmeade!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed.

"Are you sure?!" Lupin demanded staring intensely at Draco. Draco responded with a simple curt nod.

"I'm leaving!" Mr. Weasley announced.

"I'll get details from Hermione then I'll follow. Draco, Follow me!" Lupin barked, racing from the room. Draco followed closely. Lupin's tone did not bother him. In fact, it gave him a smug proudness. Lupin's order was not angry or disbelieving; Lupin _did_ believe him and his gruff tone was due to his panic. Draco found it surprisingly difficult to keep up with him. His muscles burned and his head spun with weakness and exhaustion.

"Hermione! Is what Draco says true?!" Lupin demanded. Draco arrived just behind Lupin and stood in the doorway. He looked stiff and proud, making sure he looked composed but his hand rested on the door frame to help him keep balanced. His weak state was catching up with him.

He looked past Lupin to see Hermione sitting on the side of her bed looking distressed. "If he said that there's a fight at Hogwarts, then yes," she said quietly, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"Tell me all you know," Lupin said with great urgency, his eyes wild.

"The twins and Ginny got a message from the D.A. coins," Hermione started. Lupin looked ready to interrupt but thought better of it. "Ginny said it was from Neville. It said 'Harry's here. We're going to fight.' Lupin, I think Harry's finished the task. He wouldn't chance a fight unless he was ready to finish it. And if the fight is going to be _there_, then I think You-know-who knows what Harry's done..." Hermione took a small pause, her nose tingling as she felt she might start to cry again. "I don't think this is going to be a small skirmish... This is _the_ battle, Lupin."

"Charlie, Fred, George, and Ginny?"

"They left as soon as they got the message. I imagine the whole D.A. is there. They're expecting the Order to come," Hermione answered.

"But there are charms in Hogsmeade," Lupin said flatly, hoping Hermione could ease this worry.

"I think they knew that. That's why they chose to go straight into the Hog's Head. They must know another way," Hermione explained her suspicion.

"I'm leaving now then." Mrs. Weasley said. Draco jumped, not knowing that the woman was standing behind him. Lupin nodded to her and placed his wand to the wedding band on his left hand. Hermione's fingers absently traveled to the burning earring. After a minute, Lupin's wand began tapping in odd patterns on his ring. Hermione appeared not to pay attention, but she already knew just what the message was about. Lupin stopped as suddenly as he started.

"I'm leaving, but I expect both of you to stay here. And I mean it," He said firmly, fixing stern stares from one to the other. Draco and Hermione nodded and Lupin turned on the spot, disapparating.

Hermione looked up at Draco. He was staring fixedly at the place Lupin just stood, his eyes distant and cold. She thought of how relaxed and relieved he was before her bath when he was alone with her and Ginny. That look had completely disappeared by the time she left the bathroom. He looked like the same Draco she'd seen at school the year before, rigid, distant, and haunted. She ached for him, seeing the pain and frustration under his composed facade.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. Draco's head snapped up.

"What?" He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Hermione slid off the side of the bed and walked over to him, looking up into his grey eyes, she took his hand in both of hers. "I know this is all really hard for you," she explained softly.

"You too," He said with a small frown. "But there's nothing to do but wait."

Hermione nodded sadly and tilted her head to the side. "Why don't you go have your bath now? It might make you feel a little better."

Draco just nodded. Hermione stepped back and Draco crossed the room, gather the towel and clothes Ginny had laid out for him, and walked to the bathroom. Hermione drew in a shaky breath and let out a large sigh. She retreated to her bed and propped up the pillow, sitting with her back against the headboard. She ran a hand through her wet curls and pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. Pictures of Ron and Harry instantly flashed in her mind and the dull ache in her chest grew painful. She wondered where they were. Her imagination kept playing images of her friends with their wands drawn, throwing spells that they had practiced in the D.A. so many times before. Visions of death eaters running the halls, streams of light flying from the ends of their wands at her friends played over and over. She imagined Voldemort slowly walking into the entrance hall and Harry meeting him at the top of the main staircase. Tears began to sting her eyes.

A sound at the door pulled Hermione from her nightmare visions. An agonized whimper escaped her lips as her eyes fell upon tall woman with a sharp pointed face and high cheekbones and thin lips, her hair and eyes dark. _Bellatrix! _ "Draco!" Hermione shouted in terror.

"It's okay. Please calm down," The woman said in soothing voice, her eyes sympathetic. Hermione's breathing slowed but her heart still pounded in her ears. This wasn't Bellatrix. Though at first glance the woman strongly resembled the cruelest of death eaters, only a second later, Hermione felt silly for believing this woman might be her. Her hair was lighter, a deep brown, her eyes were softer, her cheeks slightly rounder with a gentle pink tint. Although she stood tall and proud, everything about her seemed much softer, including her dress. In her arms was a tray of food that appeared heavy in her arms. "My name is Andromeda Tonks. I'm Nymphadora's mother. And I'm sorry I frightened you."

"No...no. I'm sorry," Hermione shook her head, feeling her fear continue to drain away. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. It's just that I-"

"I know who you thought I was," the woman replied. She seemed a little bitter at this, but none of it was aimed at Hermione. It felt as if it were aimed at the creator who caused her to look so much like her older sister, or Bellatrix herself. "You've been through alot. You have every right-"

The bathroom door flew open suddenly and Draco stepped into the room dripping wet, a towel held closed around his waist with his left hand. "Hermione?!" His eyes flew to the door and a blue fire burst to life in his right palm.

Hermione had completely forgotten that she had screamed for him just a few seconds ago and was startled by his entrance and even more by his ferocity. "Draco, Stop!"

Draco's head snapped to Hermione then to the woman in front of him. "Draco." She greeted with a stiff nod and cold eyes. The fire in Draco's hand vanished and he adjusted himself, straightening from what could only be thought of as an attack position to match the woman's haughty formal stance.

Draco inclined his head courteously in stiff acknowledgment. "Andromeda." Hermione looked confused at the exchange. Both of them looked so courtly and imposing, their greeting one of spiteful civility.

"I am sorry I startled you." Andromeda did not return to the soft kind voice that she used with Hermione when she entered. She spoke mainly to Hermione, her voice now flat and stolid, allowing a side glance at Draco every few seconds. "Molly told me that they were going and asked me to bring up the food she prepared for you both. There will be no one else here to startle you. If you need anything at all, I'll be either down the hall or in the kitchen. Please don't hesitate to ask if-" The woman stopped as a weak far off cry reached their ears, the cry of a baby. "That will be Teddy." At the mention of the baby's name, Andromeda dropped her formal act, her eyes softened again and she seemed to glow. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Wait, who's Teddy?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda's smile grew. "Dora and Remus's son."

Hermione smiled sadly. Of course they would have had him by now. "How-how is he?"

"He's very healthy, very beautiful. Three weeks old now." The cry grew louder and Andromeda almost pouted. "I've got to see to him." Without another word, Andromeda left the room ,closing the door behind her.

Hermione looked up at Draco. His face was like stone. Water from his hair was running in fast beads over his steaming flesh, dripping from his stiff form like rain off a statue. "I'm sorry," she said earnestly. "I didn't-"

"No," Draco interrupted firmly. "You didn't know her. You were right to call for me. I would have been very angry if you hadn't."

"How-how do you know her?" Hermione asked.

Draco's eyes widened with shock, as though she should have known the answer. But by the time he spoke, his surprise worn off and did not linger in his tone. "She's my aunt. Mother's older sister," Draco informed. "I've seen her before, but we've never spoken. She was removed from the family before I was born. She married a muggle."

"Oh..." Hermione responded quietly.

"I never thought I'd be like her," Draco said, an unreadable scowl on his face. "But I'm glad to be rid of them. If you only belong to a family because you become who they want you to be, then it's not a family worth belonging to."

Hermione didn't know how to respond. She was afraid speaking might intrude upon his thoughts. Finally he looked back at her and snorted a small chuckle. "I guess I should probably get some clothes on."

"You were only in there for a couple minutes," Hermione protested. "Finish your bath." Draco fixed a scrutinizing stare on her, as if trying to read her thoughts. "I'll be fine," Hermione laughed in exasperation. "Finish your bath."

Draco nodded. "But if anyone comes in, even Andromeda, call for me," he said severely.

Hermione nodded again. She used to get so upset when Harry and Ron used to get protective of her, but it was different with Draco. Draco was very protective of her, one might even call it fiercely possessive, but rather than feeling upset or irked she felt grateful and comforted. And what felt even stranger was that she felt the same way toward him.

* * *

**Please Review. ^^**


	17. What Next?

Draco sighed as he laid in the bath, his head draped over the back. It had taken him all but five minutes to get clean. It was almost immediately after he finished rinsing his hair under the water that Hermione had screamed his name. It had only been his aunt Andromeda, but he understood why she had been so frightened. The woman looked very much like his aunt Bellatrix. It was unsettling seeing her. He knew less about that woman than he did about the Weasleys or anyone else in the Order. His family often discussed their enemies, but only once had he been told of his aunt Andromeda. The day she'd been shunned from the family, it had been almost as if she never existed. And this was how it would be for Draco. The last heir of the Malfoy family had been stricken from the family records. To all pureblood families, it was as though he never existed.

Draco sighed in frustration. He had returned to the bath like Hermione had insisted, but he could no longer relax. Seeing Andromeda and hearing the fear in Hermione's voice had him on edge. From the moment he left her sight he'd been straining his ears for any sound in the house. But the silence was so complete that the only thing Draco could hear was the ticking of the clock on the wall. He continued to stare at it watching the second hand skip around it's face. The hand ticked up to the twelve and Draco pulled the drain plug. Seven minutes. That was enough. Surely Hermione would be satisfied with seven minutes. Draco grabbed the towel off the toilet lid and dried himself off. He stepped onto the soft plush rug in front of the sink and stared into the mirror. His cuts healed, he looked much the same as he always did. Rigid. Cold. Pale. His looks mirrored how he felt inside. He rubbed his hair dry and threw the towel into the hamper in the corner. He quickly slipped into the cotton boxers and pajama bottoms. He stopped for a moment and stared down at the faded blue plaid pajama shirt in his hands. Curiously, he smelled it. It smelled earthy but clean. He slipped it over his head and returned to the bedroom.

Hermione was once again sitting with her back against the headboard. She chuckled when she saw him and he was sure he knew why. Though Draco was not a short man, the pajamas laid out for him were too long, the sleeves extending past his wrists and his heels stepping on an inch or two of the pant legs that gathered on the floor. The Weasley twins were the shortest among the Weasley boys, but this just proved how tall all the Weasley men were. Draco smirked at her, sharing in her amusement. He looked over at the food that Andromeda had left on her bedside table then back at Hermione.

"You haven't eaten?" His question sounded more like an accusation.

"I was waiting for you," she answered as though wondering why he would expect anything else.

"You didn't have to," he insisted, but she only shrugged in response.

Hermione picked up one of the plates and a fork and handed it to Draco. Draco nodded in appreciation as he took it and sat down on the side of her bed next to her. Both of them looked up at each other and began to laugh. Of all the meals in the world, their plates were piled high with beef, potatoes, carrots, and yorkshire pudding. Two small dessert plates on the tray were almost completely hidden beneath enormous portions of ginger pudding.

"Looks like you got your wish," Hermione giggled, remembering that this was exactly the meal Draco had been dreaming of in captivity.

"It's actually kind of scary," Draco chuckled. "Like 'how did she know?' If they had given us bread and butter pudding like you wanted, I'd demand an explanation."

"Ginger pudding still sounds absolutely perfect though." Hermione forced herself to look away from the desserts and back the plate in her hands. She was just about to take a bite when Draco interrupted.

"I know you're really hungry, but don't eat too fast... or too much," he instructed.

"Otherwise I'll just throw it up. I know," assured Hermione. "I've learned more about starvation this year than I'd ever hoped to." She said a bit bitterly.

Draco looked at her suspiciously. He had a feeling that there was more to it than he knew. Hermione saw the look on his face and smiled sadly.

"Harry, Ron, and I have been on the run since August. We couldn't exactly walk into a cafe whenever we were hungry," Hermione explained.

"What were you doing? Everyone thought you were just hiding, but everyone _here_ keeps talking about 'Dumbledore's Task'" Draco asked, taking a small bite of beef.

Hermione looked at him nervously. She wasn't meant to tell anyone, but she didn't have to tell him everything. "Dumbledore gave us instructions before he died. He knew he was dying... he wanted to make sure someone would finish what he started."

"He was dying?!" Draco demanded.

Hermione nodded. "Harry didn't understand it... but I did. He had even put us in his will, things to help us. It was all about steps to destroy You-know-who. It was harder than we thought though... we spent alot of time talking about things we couldn't begin to understand. We were traveling in a tent. Sometimes we managed to steal food, but there were alot of times we just went hungry. But they must have done it. They must have figured it out..."

"And whatever you were doing, you think it'll really help Potter finish him?" Draco asked.

Hermione looked down unsure how to answer that. "He's already been kind of destroying him... But this will be different..."

"He did have a horcux then..." Draco said quietly. It was almost a question except that he seemed so sure of the answer.

"What?" Hermione asked in shock.

"I heard Nott and Bellatrix discuss it. Well, it was hardly what you could call a discussion, it was just a question that was left hanging. They had a suspicion that he might, but they were frightened to even talk about it between themselves. I knew that whatever it was, it was too frightening for the death eaters to even think of, so I looked it up. It would explain how the dark lord survived the backfired killing curse on Potter," Draco explained.

"He didn't just make one..." She felt that since he already knew, it couldn't hurt to disclose more to him. Draco looked at her with concern. "He made seven."

"What?!" Draco demanded, almost choking on his dinner. "Is that even possible?"

Hermione nodded. "That diary that your father gave Ginny... It had possessed her because there was a piece of you-know-who's soul in it. Harry destroyed it. Dumbledore found one the summer before this last and destroyed it. We collected another this summer and had suspicions of two more."

Draco was finding it extremely hard to breathe. "And you think Potter destroyed the rest?"

"It would be stupid to fight him before then," Hermione said.

"It would be stupid to fight him at all," Draco added. "Even if he destroyed the horcruxes, what makes him think he can defeat him in person? Dozens of people have died at his wand. No one stands a chance against him if he has it in his mind to kill them."

"Harry's survived him five times already. At his height as a baby, as a spirit in first year, a half being in second, and his full power again in fourth year, and at the ministry of magic our fifth year. Each time it was just chance. I think the prophecy is true. Harry has to be the one who finishes him. I can't believe that it will end any other way. Not after all that's happened," Hermione explained.

"So he is the chosen one..." Draco admitted to himself with a grumble. Silence filled the room as they ate their dinner, their minds on the battle that was taking place at that very moment. Draco set his dessert plate on the tray, all four of their plates looking practically untouched even though their hunger had been satiated. Draco stared at the polished wood floor at his feet, miserably lost in his thoughts. Hermione watched him sadly.

"What are you thinking?" she asked quietly.

"I'm just wondering what happens next," he admitted, looking up at Hermione. "Say Potter does win. What then? ...I don't know who I am anymore," Draco said bitterly, looking back to the floor. "I never have."

"Most people in the world struggle with that, Draco," Hermione assured softly. "I do."

Draco looked at her out of the corner of his eye, sighed and looked back at the wall across the room.

"I, like you, have always been very proud of the person I wanted people to see me as... but that didn't mean it was really me. It may have seemed like I knew what I wanted, but I've never really known who I am... I'm lost now more than I've ever been. I don't have the will or energy to go back to being who or-or whatever I was," Hermione explained weakly, her voice and eyes distant.

Draco gave the tiniest nod of agreement, as far off in thoughts as she was. "But at least you have people here to help you find yourself again. I can't go back to what I thought I was," Draco finally spoke, his voice as quiet as Hermione's as he stared off despondently. "I don't belong anywhere..."

"You're wrong," Hermione said, finally pulling back into herself and looking over at Draco with concern. "You belong with me," she said as if it were the most natural and obvious answer, placing her hand on his and gripping it compassionately in hers.

Draco looked down at their hands, his brows furrowed in an unreadable expression and he looked up at her. He looked somewhat irritated... but not with her. "Hermione..."

"The war's changed everything. We're both lost. But I don't feel as lost when I'm with you," Hermione replied. Draco's expression softened and he gave Hermione's hand a light squeeze. "And I know you feel the same," she pressed.

Draco looked at her with a pensive sad smile. "I think we should probably get some sleep. Spells and potions can fix most anything, but we still need sleep." Draco gave her hand one more squeeze before he let go and stood up.

Hermione nodded slid underneath the blankets. Draco looked up at the candle bracket on the wall next to Hermione's bed, licked his thumb and forefinger and reached up to put it out. "Wait!" Hermione cried. Draco stopped and looked down at her in surprise. She began to blush deeply, embarrassed by her outburst. "I'm sorry... I just..." Hermione bit her lip. She felt like a silly little child explaining that she'd prefer he keep the light on.

"It's okay," Draco said, not needing her to explain. "Honestly, I didn't really want to be in the dark either. We'll leave this one burning and I'll put out the others." Hermione nodded, still feeling mortified by her childish fears and need of a nightlight, but after weeks of darkness she just couldn't let the light disappear again. "Really. It's okay. I prefer it this way," Draco assured, reaching down and twisting a lock of her hair in his fingers. "So, uh... goodnight."

Draco put out all the other candles in the room, leaving the one near the head of Hermione's bed and slipped under the blankets of his own bed.

"'Night, Draco."

* * *

**Response to imslytherinatheart's review:**

Thank you very much for the compliment. And I assure you there will be no 'nookie fest.' I'm not sure I'm throwing them in the sack at all, but if I do, I don't think it will get smutty. It just doesn't feel like it'd fit the mood of this kind of story.

**In fact... I was planning on the next chapter being the last of this story. I was going to continue with a sequel (I'm already writing it in my head) but I'm really not sure if I should separate them. This story feels like it's been completed in the next chapter, but the next story would pick up right where this leaves off. I do want to see where the end of the war takes their relationship, but it feels like another plot because this was all about surviving imprisonment... So you tell me - **

**Should I just keep it going with _this_ story or post the next part of the story as a sequel? Your votes will decide it. So make sure you review.**

**Please review. ^^**


	18. Promise

Hermione laid on her back, her head comfortably cushioned by the soft plush pillow. Her eyes wandered over the ceiling and walls, watching the soft flickering glow of the candle dance around the room. She couldn't sleep. Hours had passed since she and Draco had said goodnight. The sky outside the window was already beginning to brighten slightly, turning from pitch black to a deep blue.

Draco had fallen asleep only an hour ago but Hermione's mind was too full, too busy to allow her any rest. Her mind flashed through pictures of each one of her friends wondering just what they were doing at that moment. She could visualize the faces of the death eaters clearer than she ever had in the past. She knew now just what they were capable of and hoped that her friends would suffer none of it. A rustle of blankets pulled her mind back to the room she was in. Draco gave a soft groan and Hermione looked over at him. His body lay still and quiet for a moment before he groaned again. His body twisted and she could see the tortured look on his face. His groaning became louder and his movements more pronounced. He was having a nightmare. Hermione stared at him with concern, her heart aching as she wondered where his dreams had taken him.

Hermione slipped her legs over the side of the bed and slowly walked over to him. "Draco…" she whispered softly. His lips twitched into a deep frown and he moaned again. "Draco," she whispered a bit louder, running her hand over his silky blonde hair.

Draco jumped in surprise, his eyes snapped open. He was breathing quickly, his face full of terror as he stared up at Hermione.

"It's okay," Hermione soothed. "You were just having a nightmare." Draco's rapid breathing slowed a little but he heart continued to race. His look of fear turned to one of frustration and embarrassment. "I'm sorry I woke you," Hermione apologized, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Are you alright?"

Draco nodded his head slowly. "Yeah… yeah, I'm alright…" Hermione looked down at him, her warm brown eyes full of sad sympathy. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"No… I wasn't sleeping," Hermione said mournfully.

"Yeah, I had a hard time getting to sleep too," Draco agreed.

"I'm really sorry I woke you. You just sounded so frightened." Hermione tilted her head to the side to better look in his eyes.

"No, I'm glad you did," Draco replied, his mind recalling his terrible dream. And uncomfortable silence followed.

"Well…" Hermione said, getting to her feet. "Goodnight, I guess." Hermione started slowly walking back to her bed but stopped halfway and turned back to Draco.

Draco stared at her expectantly, but she just stood there biting her lip, unable to say what she was thinking. But he knew just what she wanted to ask. It was the same thing he wanted to ask… but he just couldn't. It just didn't feel right. They stared in each other's eyes, begging the other to say what they wanted to themselves. Draco finally realized that he too was biting his lower lip.

Draco sighed deeply and pulled back the corner of his blankets. Hermione gave him a warm grateful smile, full of relief, and climbed into Draco's bed. Draco threw the covers over her as she settled next to him. They both lay on their sides facing each other, their faces only inches apart. The bed was rather small for the both of them but they had grown used to being close to one another while they slept. So much so that it felt almost painful to sleep on separate sides of the room. Neither of them spoke a word, neither daring to touch each other. It had felt a little awkward when they first started sleep so close together in the chamber but quickly became comfortable. And although it was uncomfortable to be apart now, it was awkward once again. This wasn't the chamber. They were no longer in danger. But they could bear the thought of being alone yet.

"Draco..." Hermione whispered apprehensively.

"Yeah?"

"You're not going to leave... right?" she asked.

Draco gave a tiny chuckle. "I don't have a wand and I have no idea where I am, so I'd say that's a pretty safe bet."

"You know that's not what I mean..." Hermione continued sadly. Hermione's chest tightened with anxiety when Draco did not respond. "Draco, I don't want you to leave," she continued, her voice becoming high with her nervousness.

"Hermione..." Draco started slightly exasperated. The crease in Hermione's brow deepened and she found it harder to breathe as she wouldn't even look at her. "Hermione, we're not in the cellar anymore. This is the real world again."

"And what does that mean?" she asked, her voice rising as she came closer to tears.

"The last few weeks we've been living in a different world. Even now, just hours after being tortured, it seems like just a long terrible nightmare. This is the real world again. Things are different here. You don't need me anymore. You have Potter and Weasley, and all the other Weasleys," Draco explained.

"That doesn't mean I don't need you," Hermione said desperately.

"But it does," Draco insisted. "You've suffered alot and your pain is still very raw and it's clouding your judgment. You only see me as the man that's been there to comfort you through your suffering. But you're not suffering anymore. You're going to heal and you're going to see me for who I really am - who I was..."

"My pain is still raw but it's not clouding my judgment. We've changed, both of us. I know exactly who you are now, and it's helped me to see who you were all along," Hermione persisted. "I've not forgotten the past, I've _forgiven_ it."

"But that's just it. This is the real world. No matter who I am now doesn't change who I've been or what I've done. Just because you've forgiven the past, it doesn't mean that others will. I was a death eater, Hermione. That's not something people are going to let go," he argued vehemently.

"But it can be forgiven!" Hermione demanded. "You never signed up for any of this. You were threatened with you life and the life of your family, and still in the face of it, you didn't carry out you-know-who's orders. You didn't kill Dumbledore and you were ordered to guard me and you protected me with great risk to yourself. Such things do not go unnoticed. Those things count! I'll stand up for you. I promise that I will give everything I've got and then some to protect you. If I have to pull strings I can and I will. I'll not let you be punished for crimes you never even committed!"

"Fine. Say that you can. Say that I'm saved from Azkaban. But that doesn't change what I've already said," Draco argued fervently. "We've grown close in a completely different world than this. We grew close because we needed to depend on each other. We're not there anymore! You've got your life back, and it's not a life I fit into."

"Things have changed! _We've_ changed. My life isn't what it was. My life will never be the same again. I don't even know where _I_ fit in my life anymore! It doesn't matter _why _we've grown close; the fact is, we _are_ and that's not going to change just because our situation has. We became friends under the very worst circumstances. What makes you think that our friendship won't work now that things are better?" she challenged.

"We _have_ changed. We're not the people we were a month ago, and much, much farther from the people we were a year ago, and the year before that. And we're going to keep changing. Next month we will be completely different people than we are today, and even farther from ourselves in a year's time. You're going to heal and you're going to see, I'm not who you think I am," Draco maintained.

"You're wrong. I _do_ know who you are. Name one person who knows you better than me, yourself included," Hermione demanded. "We _have_ changed and we've changed with and for each other. We _will_ keep changing, but I don't understand why you think that we can't change together! We _will_ be different next month and the month after that, but that doesn't mean that we have to grow apart! I want us to grow _together_..."

Draco sighed wearily. He didn't know what to say to that. Ever since the night that he picked her up and carried her from the study to the cellar, the night that he conjured the bed for her, he no longer knew what to do. His life had always been laid out for him; never did he have to wonder what to do with his life, the expectations had been there since the day he was born. But now he was free, not just from imprisonment in Malfoy Manor, but free to decide for himself what he should do with his life. And he was lost. Hermione was right that he didn't know who he was, and that scared him. He had no one. The people he once counted family and friends now disowned him. He had sided with those he called the enemy, but he didn't belong with them either. There was no place for him in the world anymore.

The only friend he had was laying there beside him, but he feared her as well. He felt closer to Hermione than anyone else in his life. She had cared for him like no one else ever had, but that was when she had no one else. Unlike him, she had many people who cared deeply for her and he feared he had no place among them. Potter was once his greatest enemy; it was very unlikely that they would be able to completely put such a rivalry behind them. Though Draco was a changed man, Potter was not a very forgiving one, and Weasley grudges were infamous. He feared committing himself to this girl for he worried that she would come to realize that he was not fit for her. Everything he once had, had been taken away from him. He now had nothing but the clothes on his back... and even those were not his. He was afraid of this friendship because it was unlike anything he'd ever known. It was a great risk and he wasn't sure he'd survive if it was taken away from him. It felt safer to withdraw than to be pushed away.

"Hermione..." he breathed dejectedly. Hermione tucked her head down, hiding her face from him, and her body began to shake with silent sobs. Draco looked on her with a pained expression, his heart breaking with hers. "Hermione..." he whispered, placing a comforting hand on her upper arm.

"I really thought we'd grown close... I really believed you cared for me..." she cried.

"I do… more than you know," he fervently assured, bending is head closer to hers.

"Then why would you want to forget me?" Hermione implored. She looked up into his mysterious grey eyes, her soft brown eyes shining with the hurt he was causing.

"I don't," Draco replied honestly. "You and I may get along now, but that doesn't mean anyone else will accept me. In fact, I'm sure they won't. I don't want to sit around and wait for you to realize that I really don't fit in your life."

"And you think I make my decisions based on what other people think?" Hermione asked indignantly, a slight bite in her tone.

"Actually, I _am_ concerned you might…" Draco admitted heatedly.

"Draco, nothing anyone says or does will change how I feel about you," Hermione answered sternly.

"Look. I don't _want_ to put you behind me…" Draco's heated tone mellowed with Hermione's, but he still sounded serious with a slight edge to his voice. "I've never cared about anyone the way I care about you, which just makes everything even more complicated than it already is. I risked everything and I lost everything. I don't exactly feel comfortable investing in something that's so… unexpected and unpredictable. I don't want to decide to stick around for awhile just to have you change your mind about me."

"Why do you keep expecting me to change my mind? When I choose a friend, I never change my mind. And you act like you're such a terrible person…I've seen you at your best, and I've seen you at your worst. I know who you are!" Hermione ardently proclaimed. She closed her eyes and breathed in a unsteadily as she determinedly repressed the tears that were threatening to form.

"Hermione… I didn't mean to insinuate that-" Draco started soberly, but Hermione was quick to cut him off.

"You don't know what you mean, because you don't know what you want," Hermione accused. "If fear is the only reason you want to quit me, then don't. I should be the last person in the world you fear. Can't you see what you mean to me?!" Hermione pleaded. Draco stared straight into her deep brown eyes, searching for the answer that she expected him to know. Her voice became as soft as her eyes, "Draco… can't you see that I love you?"

And there it was, the expression in her eyes that had been eluding him. It was not as though Draco had never seen a person in love before. He had seen the emotion simply pouring out of people when he was at school, couples walking around everywhere with silly little grins and a sappy look in their eyes, looking as if they were about to burst. But that was just it. Hermione never wore a ridiculous grin, her eyes never shined with a sappy infatuation, there was no desperate obsession. This love she confessed _was_ something Draco had never known before. It wasn't a light flitty feeling that bubbled on the surface. The feelings she had for him, whatever they could be called, were deep and solid and… comfortable. This love did not need physical signs of affection to survive, only requesting a simple acknowledgment of its existence.

She cared for him, loved him in a way that he never knew possible, and yet in placing a label on her feelings for him, he realized that it was the exact thing he'd been carrying around in himself. He loved her too. His care and concern for her, his feelings of protectiveness and possessiveness, were strong solid feelings that were anchored deep inside him, feelings that he knew would never fade no matter where life might lead them. It was the pain he felt when he thought of leaving and moving on in his life without her, the pain when he worried that she might one day reject him. It was the feeling that gave him the resolve to forfeit his life to ensure her safety and escape. It was love they shared - deep, steady, constant love. It was a love that demanded no romance, but upon its admission and upon its requite, an amorous desire fell upon them.

Draco wove his fingers into her still damp curls and pressed his lips to hers in a sober yet passionate kiss. Hermione placed her hand on the back of his neck, holding him to her as her lips moved in slow time with his. Slowly their lips parted and Draco rested his forehead against hers. Both of them were breathing slowly and steadily as their bodies and minds buzzed with the intense new thoughts and emotions. Hermione stared into his eyes, slightly worried by his response. But his eyes were closed, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. What had he meant by it?

Draco opened his eyes and saw that hers were filled with concern. His smile grew, but still looked so small, but still mild and pensive. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her against his chest, lightly kissing her forehead. "I'll not leave," he whispered. "At least not until I'm sent away…"

"Promise."

Draco pressed his nose into her soft brown hair and breathed in deeply. He couldn't refuse her. "I promise."

Hermione smiled and sighed deeply.

"You know I never really wanted to leave you… right?"

Hermione nodded against his chest and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I know."

There were a million more things Draco wanted to say, a million things he felt. His mind was still protesting, coming up with reasons why this wasn't a good idea, but his heart would not allow him to speak. Whatever pain his mind imagined this could cause, his heart told him that it would be much more painful to leave. Neither of them knew just what they had or where it was going, but they couldn't bear to let it go. Hermione breathed a deep comfortable sigh and Draco snorted a silent chuckle to himself. If anyone had told him even a month ago that he could fall in love with Hermione Granger and give up everything he had for her, he would never have believed it. No one would have. But now he wondered why he had wasted so much of his life hating her instead of getting to know and love her. How different their lives could have been.

A tiny snore issued from the girl in his arms. She had been completely exhausted, but it was until she was with him that she was comfortable enough to give into rest. Draco smiled and sighed, relaxing himself against her and allowing himself to join her in peaceful rest.

Hermione woke an hour and a half later to a burning sensation in her ear, the sky outside a light grey of dawn. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts and she touched her earring. The burning sensation continued. Seconds passed turning into a minute, then two. Hermione became more and more concerned each passing second. Someone, at least one, was not responding to the call of their ring. Hermione tried to tell herself that the person just might be unconscious, but an ache in her chest told her that it was more. Someone, at least one, could have been killed. The battle had lasted for hours and the battle would have casualties. Hermione's stomach became queasy at the thought. She didn't want to imagine who might have been lost. Her heart and mind could not bear it so she shut the idea out completely.

Nearly three minutes after her ring started burning, the message started. Hermione concentrated extremely hard on deciphering the code. She let out a large sigh at the end, tears gathering in her eyes. 'Harry's alive – defeated V. Over.'

It was over. The battle was finished and Harry survived. The thought of those that might not have survived flickered in her mind again, but she quickly pushed it away. There was no use in worrying over it yet. Though the battle was done, Hermione was sure that there was still much work to be done there. She would not receive another message for at least a few more hours. There was plenty of time to think and worry when they returned.

There would be a terrible mixture of sorrow and joy when they returned and she could not waste her energy on them just now. There would be a time for mourning, a time for rebuilding, and a time for healing, but that time was not now. Hermione had been through a lot and there was much tribulation still ahead. No, now was not a time to think of the future. It was a time to rest. She would need a lot of strength and energy to get through the days ahead. Now was a time relax and recover, for when she woke next she would begin to fight a new battle, a battle to rebuild her life and the many other things that had been damaged during the war. There was much work and a different kind of suffering ahead.

Hermione smiled at the blonde boy sleeping peacefully next to her, his slow breaths soothing her anxiety. She snuggled closer to him. The freedom Harry had won the world, though it was a great relief, did not come without consequence and suffering. The defeat of Voldemort didn't mean that the next morning things would be just as they had been four years ago. There was a lot of work to do. But Hermione knew that so long as she and Draco had each other for support, they could find the strength to make it through. They would help to rebuild the wizarding world and build a place for themselves inside it.

* * *

**_Fin._**

**There it is. I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.**

**But I know that _my_ imagination isn't satisfied here, so I'm writing a sequel. I just finished writing the first chapter and I'll be posting it under the title "Out of the Ashes"**

**I'll let you all know though, because I haven't given myself a good headstart in writing, I'm not going to be able to post everyday. (I usually make sure I have at least 5 chapters written before I start posting) But I can still promise updates at least twice a week. Thanks again for reading and for all your wonderful reviews. You really know how to make a girl feel loved. ^^**

**Please review. ^^**


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